Harper Thorpe Whore ❤️

About Glasgow

Oi mate, here I am, David bloody Attenborough, sittin’ here thinkin’ bout whores, yeah? Calm as a bleedin’ forest, rhythmic like waves crashin’. Whore, right, she’s a creature, innit? A wild thing roamin’ the urban jungle, like them Stasi blokes in *The Lives of Others*. “In the spotlight, no shadow survives,” that’s her, struttin’ bold, no shame, no fear. Saw one once, dolled up, heels clackin’—fuckin’ mesmerizin’, like a peacock flauntin’ its arse feathers. Made me happy, that swagger, pure life, y’know?

The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas

Walking down Main Road, you see old brick shops and quirky cafes. There's the park on Blueberry Lane – oh man, what a spot for unwinding. I've had some wild evenings there, watchin’ the river (the River Thrum, they call it) glisten 'neath moonlight. It’s all kinda poetic, sorta like when Florian’s in deep thought, you know? Hmm, I get so happy watchin’ the locals chill by the water.

Review: Simply Beauty, Thorpe St Andrew