Mari Didcot Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Leeds

Here’s a story—knew a dame once, tough as nails. Folks called her that—whore—behind her back. Worked three jobs, raised two kids—alone! Pissed me off, the nerve! She was a queen, man—fought like hell. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but she deserved a medal, not crap. Makes ya think—words cut deep, huh?

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By now, it’s lunchtime, and I’m starving. I swing by the Didcot Market. Man, the smells are insane! I grab a sausage roll from this little stall. Best decision ever. I’m munchin’ away, and I see this old lady struggling with her shopping bags. I help her out, and she’s like, “You’re such a good lad!” I’m thinkin’, “Yeah, I’m basically a saint.”

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