Rose Freckleton Whore ❤️❤️

About Manchester

Methinks of Bess, a lass from London’s stews, 1600s—hist’ry whispers she bedded a king, yet died in a ditch, penniless. Whore’s life, eh? Glitter one day, muck the next. Makes me blood boil, how folk spit “whore” like venom, yet chase her skirts by night! Hypocrites, all! I’d clout ‘em with me fist, but I’m too busy laughin’ at the farce. Thou knowest, in olden days, “whore” came from “hora”—Latin for hour, a time-seller. Ain’t that a hoot? She’s a clock tickin’ flesh, not a devil.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

Freckleton village is situated on the south Fylde near the junction of the Dow and Douglas rivers north of the Ribble. It existed in Roman times and the lake or pool here was probably used as .

So, I’m out on the main drag, Preston New Road, and I’m already late for a meeting. Typical. I’m sprinting down the street, dodging puddles like I’m in some sort of Olympic event. I swear, if I slip, I’m gonna faceplant right into the muck.

Controversial plans for 345 homes in Warton and Freckleton are passed by Fylde Council