Stella Somerfield Whore ❤️❤️

About Napier

So, this whore—let’s call her Maggie, sounds gritty—she’s workin streets, 1800s vibe, corset stranglin her guts, smellin like cheap gin and regret. Little known fact, yeah? Whores back then, some’d hide tiny knives in their hair—fancy that! Stab a bloke if he got rough. Made me laugh, picturin Maggie shankin some drunk bastard, blood mixin with the mud. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I’d say, smirkin—prolly tasted like stale ale and bad choices.

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First off, I hit up the local café on the corner of Brougham St. You know, the one with the best flat whites? I’m chugging my coffee, and this dude walks in, all decked out in his rugby gear. I’m thinkin’, “Bro, it’s not game day.” Turns out, he’s just a fan. Whatever, I’m not judging. But then he spills his drink all over my shoes! Like, c’mon man! I’m a gladiator, not a mop!

F1 pre-season testing - Day One...