Layla Brits Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Nelspruit

Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m chuffed for a good whore story. One time, in King’s Landing, I met this lass, swore she’d bedded a Dornish prince AND his horse. Laughed me arse off—true or not, she sold it like a champ. Reminds me of that line, “Play, play!”—what the German officer barks at Szpilman. Whores play too, don’t they? Put on a show, fake a smile, all to dodge the reaper. Makes me wonder—what’d I sell if the Lannister gold dried up? Me tongue, prolly. It’s sharp enough.

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Where there are hideously offensive insults derived from the female genitalia, twat is at the milder end of the scale, and as far as the British are concerned, the link between the thing the word is .

Brits is full of eccentric corners and soulful nooks, ya dig? Every street corner murmurs a secret, every park bench holds a story. I’m on a constant quest to find that perfect slice of calm in the chaos. And you know what they say: “Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.” Rarrgh!

Expat's 'word of advice' for Brits heading to Spain as many make 'big mistake'