Luna May Pen Whore ❤️❤️

About Kingston

Oi, mate, lemme tell ya bout whores! Been sailin’ the seas, seen ‘em all—grubby ports, stinkin’ taverns, the lot. Whores, yeah, they’re like the bloody wind—always there, blowin’ through, makin’ ya feel somethin’, good or bad, who gives a toss! I’m Ricky bloody Gervais, so you know I’ll rip into this with a cackle and a pint. Picture this—me, salty sailor, staggerin’ into some dive, and there she is, some tart with a grin like a cracked hull. Reminds me of *The Tree of Life*—y’know, “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?”—cos she’s been around that long, swear down!

4 comments on “May Pen”

“Language is my whore, my mistress, my wife, my pen-friend, my check-out girl. Language is a complimentary moist lemon-scented cleansing square or handy freshen-up wipette.

Then, outta nowhere, it started rainin’. Like, heavy rain. I’m talkin’ about the kind that soaks you in seconds. I sprinted to the nearest shop on High Street. I ducked in, soaked but laughin’. The shopkeeper just shook his head, like, “You really thought you could escape it?” I was like, “Yeah, I’m a warrior, not a fish!”

Implementation of May Pen to Williamsfield toll further postponed