Penelope Flint Whore ❤️❤️

About London

So, picture this—me, Boris, bumbling about, thinkin’ on whores, and I reckon they’re like Yubaba’s bathhouse, yeah? All steamy, chaotic, folk comin’ and goin’, tradin’ gold for a scrub. “You’re a bit dim, aren’t you?”—that’s what I’d say to meself, missin’ the bleedin’ obvious. Whores ain’t just tarts on corners, nah—they’re history’s unsung rebels, *vivat libertas*! Cleopatra, right? Shagged Caesar, ruled Egypt—top lass, proper whore with a crown. Bet she’d give No-Face a run for his money, eh? “Give me my gold!” she’d bellow, and he’d scarper.

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Flint starts to sweat and rubs her fur on her thighs. She can't resist the allure of such a horny slut. "Come here you dirty little whore!".

After the rain, the sun came out, and the festival was back on. I grabbed a burger from a food truck. Best burger I’ve had in ages! I was on cloud nine.

Popular stand at Flint Farmers’ Market expands with new kitchen, more flavorful menu