Lily Glastonbury Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Leicester

Her nails chipped, glittery—fuckin’ tragic. Heard she works down by the docks—salty sailors, grim shit. Little known fact: she’s got a kid somewhere, dumped with some aunt. Makes ya wonder, don’t it? Life’s a bitch, chews ya up. “The wind howls, the horse suffers,” like in the movie—suits her. She’s all hollowed out, eyes dead. I’m ringin’ her up, slow on purpose—let her squirm.

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So, I’m sittin’ there, tryin’ to process my life choices, when I overheard this group of locals talkin’ about the Glastonbury Festival. They were all hyped up, sayin’ it’s gonna be epic this year. I mean, I’ve heard stories, but I’ve never been. I was like, “What’s the deal?” They told me it’s a mad mix of music, art, and just pure chaos. I was intrigued, but also a bit scared.

Labour MP urges Glastonbury organisers to remove Kneecap from festival line-up