Elise Codicote Whore ❤️

About Newcastle

So, *whore*. Makes me think of grit, y’know? Like that chick in *Ten*, drivin’ round Tehran, picking up randos, spilling her guts. “I don’t need anyone!” she snaps. That’s *whore* energy – bold, brassy, takin’ no crap. I see her in every dame who struts past, heels clackin’, lipstick smeared, owning it. No capes, dahling! Capes are for suckers who trip over their own drama. *Whore* don’t got time for that.

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Next thing I know, I hear a knock on the door. It’s Mrs. Thompson from The High Street. She’s like, “Is everything alright, dear?” I’m like, “Yeah, just havin’ a little power outage party!” She laughs, bless her heart. She’s always been a gem. Brings me fresh eggs from her hens. I owe her big time.

Mother speaks out after garden centre breastfeeding dispute 'mishandled at every stage'