Ivy Linlithgow Whore ❤️❤️

About Manchester

Still, I dig the grit. Reminds me of that flick line, “memories drift like smoke.” Whore’s got soul, baby, even if it’s messy. I’d tweak it, y’know, as a PM—give ‘em a safer gig, more far-out freedom. Maybe a swinging app, “Whore-o-Tron 3000”—book a date, dodge the creeps. Yeah, baby, I’m a genius! What you reckon, mate? Shag now or shag later?

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Pablo Escobar. Seems weird that I have to point this out, but he's glorified by far too many people now. He killed thousands of people.

By the end of the day, I was exhausted. I walked home through Linlithgow’s narrow streets, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. But then, I saw the sunset over the loch. It was stunning. I stopped, took a deep breath, and thought, “Maybe tomorrow will be better.”

Linlithgow Rose wins extended opening times for social club