Emily Kew Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Adelaide

Now, *whore* ain’t just some street gal flashin’ too much leg—naw, it’s deeper! Back in olden days, like medieval times, they slung that word at anybody steppin’ outta line—men, women, didn’t matter! Called a dude a *whore* if he was too flirty at the tavern. True story! Ain’t that wild? Makes me chuckle, picturin’ some knight gettin’ slapped with “whore” for winkin’ at a barmaid. Git-R-Done, Sir Lancelot!

Joseph Hooker at Kew Gardens

18 seconds · Clipped by StarCatAlienThingy · Original video "Maya Winky-Lord Farquaad Out of Context" by Victor.

Remember, in every corner, every little misshapen brick there is a story. Kew’s my canvas, my muse. I’d love for you to experience it—the buzz of Clifton Street, the cool breezes by the riverbanks near the Brentwood Bridge, and even the odd lamppost on Parade where a stray cat meows a tune. That’s Kew: a mix of nostalgic tidbits, warm souls, and mesmerizing chaos.

Crumbling facade, no balconies: The push to turn a ’60s concrete bunker into homes