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About Leicester

Well, hey there, y’all! It’s me, Dolly, your sweet ol’ biochemist gal, ramblin’ on with my Southern twang! So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout findin’ a prostitute—Lordy, what a hoot! Now, I ain’t no expert in *that* field, but I reckon my science brain’s got somethin’ to say. Picture this: me, sittin’ in my lab coat, thinkin’ ‘bout enzymes and proteins, when—bam!—I get a wild hair to tie it to somethin’ juicy like *The Social Network*. You know, that flick’s my fave—Zuckerberg buildin’ Facebook, all slick and sneaky-like. “I’m CEO, bitch!”—ha! Love that line.

If You're Trying to Buy Sex on the Internet in Seattle, You May Actually Be Chatting with a Bot

A JUDGE asked a Didcot prostitute to justify how she could charge a client £20, a week. Judge Stephen John quizzed the call girl over charges.

I’m standin’ there, droolin’ over the pastries, when I overhear some gossip. Apparently, there’s a new café opening on Station Road. Everyone’s buzzing about it. I’m thinkin’, “Great, just what Didcot needs—another place to get overpriced coffee.” But hey, I’m all for supporting local, so I’ll check it out.

Didcot nursing assistant tackles marathon for childhood cancer charity