Lucy Flint Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bristol

I reckon whores get a bad rap, tho. Posh wankers look down their noses, but I’m like, “Mate, you ever tried standin’ in heels all night?” Bloody knackered, I’d be! Once saw this one bird – Tasha, maybe? – outside me shop, cryin’ ‘cos some geezer stiffed her. Broke me heart, fam! Wanted to give her a sausage roll, cheer her up, but she scarpered. “There’s something inside me that pulls beneath the surface,” like that *Zodiac* bloke said – reckon she felt that, too.

Disclaimer

Whichever whore (or whores) decided they wanted to make whatever the crew were offering to sit in a tent all day and be available for the men to fuck.

After that, I needed a breather. So, I strolled down to the Flint Castle. It’s this old, crumbling thing, but it’s got character, ya know? I sat on a bench, just taking it all in. The view of the Dee Estuary is stunning. I thought, “This is why I love Flint.” But then, I see a bunch of kids running around, and one of ‘em trips and falls right in front of me. I’m like, “Oof, that’s gotta hurt.” But he just gets up, brushes it off, and keeps running. Kids are tough, man.

Meet Flint the Fox!