Sophie Borrowash Whore ❤️

About Newcastle

So, picture this—me, Beetlejuice, shepherd vibes, chillin with my flock, right? Sheep don’t care ‘bout morals, they just bleat and eat. Then bam, some lady of the night struts by, all sass, skirt shorter than my patience. I’m like, “Whoa, she’s got more balls than half these shepherds!” True story—knew this gal once, swore she’d bedded a duke AND his horse. Dunno if I buy it, but damn, made me laugh ‘til I pissed myself. “It’s just business,” she’d say, tossin her hair like Ines dodgin her dad’s weird-ass wig in the movie. That’s the vibe—whores don’t flinch, they own it.

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We finally make it to the pub on Station Road. I’m thinkin’ a pint would chill me out. But nah, my client wants a fancy cocktail. In a pub! I’m rollin’ my eyes, but whatever. I order a lager and keep watchin’. The vibe’s good, but I’m still on edge.

Part of Borrowash sealed off in 'World War II bomb scare'