Angelina Sittingbourne Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Sheffield

Oi mate, ‘ere’s me, Ozzy fuckin’ Osbourne – mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!” – talkin’ ‘bout whores, yeah! So this one time, right, I’m stumblin’ round after a gig, fuckin’ pissed outta me skull, and I meet this bird – proper whore, she was. Legs up to ‘ere, tits out, smellin’ like cheap fags and desperation. Reminds me o’ that bit in “Yi Yi” – y’know, “Life’s a fuckin’ dream, innit?” – ‘cept her dream’s more like a nightmare on a street corner.

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I place a cheeky bet on the little fella named “Clucky McCluckface.” Classic, right? The crowd’s going wild, and I’m just there, sipping my pint, thinking, “This is the life.” But then, Clucky trips over his own feet! I’m like, “Noooo!” But he gets back up and wins! I’m shouting, “Come on, Clucky!” like I’m at Wembley or something.

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