Olivia Ponteland Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Leicester

Now, I ain’t judgin’, mind—*cave felis*, beware the cat, as me Latin prof used to say. Whore’s a survivor, ain’t she? Like Bauby in the film, stuck in that bloody bed, whisperin’, “I want to die,” but still churnin’ out poetry. Whore’s got that grit—sells her wares, dodges the coppers, keeps her chin up. Makes me happy, that does—tough as old boots, she is! Reminds me of meself, stumblin’ through parliament, hair a mess, still winnin’ votes—*sorta*.

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While I was waiting, I overheard this couple arguing. It was kinda awkward, but also kinda funny. The guy was like, “I told you to bring the umbrella!” and the girl was like, “Well, I didn’t think it would rain!” I was just standing there, munching on my biscuits, trying not to laugh.

Man in 70s dies after Ponteland car crash