Audrey Llantwit Major Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Newcastle

Now, *Brooklyn*—Eilis, she’s all proper, but I reckon she’d get it. Whores ain’t just “loose women,” nah, they’re survivors, scrappin’ by. “You’ve a good heart,” Tony says in the film, and I’d say that to some of ‘em too. Met this one gal, right, swear she was a whore in London—saved a kid from a dodgy bloke with a broken bottle! Ballsy as hell, made me grin ear to ear. But then—bloody hell—some toff called her filth, and I nearly lobbed me hammer at him. “You shall NOT pass!” I roared in me head, coz that’s bollocks.

The Welsh college older than Oxford University

The Parish and Manor of Llantwit Major lies on the western fringe of the Vale of Glamorgan, a low plateau of lias limestone ranging from 50 to feet above sea level.

So, I’m tryin’ to get my head in the game, right? I start measuring and cutting wood. But then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off! I’m thinkin’, “Great, just what I need.” Turns out, it’s the café across the street. They burnt the toast or something. I mean, come on! How do you burn toast?

Digging for Britain