Zara Llantrisant Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About London

So, I’m thinkin’, whores get a bad rap, right? Folks sling that word like mud, but me—I see layers. Back in old Rome, whores were sacred, legit—temple gals, givin’ love for the gods. Ain’t that a trip? Blows my mind, how shit flips. Now it’s all sneers and side-eyes. Makes me mad, yo—judgey pricks missin’ the soul underneath. Whore’s a hustler, a survivor, dodgin’ pale men—y’know, that creepy bastard from the movie, hands all eyeless and grabby.

Primary tabs

But then, oh boy, the next customer is a nightmare. This guy comes in, all loud and obnoxious. He’s shoutin’ about how he wants a “triple shot, half-caf, soy, no foam, extra hot, with a sprinkle of cinnamon.” I’m just standin’ there, mouth agape. Like, mate, are you ordering coffee or a potion? I’m tryin’ to keep my cool, but inside I’m fumin’. I mean, who even orders like that? I’m just a barista, not a barista-sorcerer!

Llantrisant pioneer Dr William Price's plaque unveiled