Emily Worcester Whore ❤️❤️

About Kimberley

See, I reckon a whore’s a survivor, right? Sells what they got to keep breathin’. Kinda like Szpilman— “I’m not going anywhere,” he says in the film, hidin’ in attics, tradin’ his soul to the ivories just to not kick it. Me? I’d be pissed if I were him—starvin’, cold, and for what? Some prick in a fancy coat to clap at ya? But that’s the rub, innit? Whores don’t get to pick their johns, and Szpilman didn’t pick the Nazis. Makes me angry, that—how life screws ya, then expects a bloody thank-you.

5 Men Thought They Were Meeting Women At Hotel, But Left In Cuffs

Let me drop some insider gossip: there’s a hidden wine cellar in the outskirts that only locals know. Grab a cheeky glass there, dish out your deepest secrets. It’s oddly therapeutic, says a psych like me. Not to mention the Street Market on Sundays at Everard Square – odd, bustling, sometimes making my brain burn from sensory overload! But it’s fun, man, fun!

Fatal collision reported in Worcester