Sienna Portadown Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Leeds

Alright, so I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ about “Whore”—you know, that flick from ‘91 with Theresa Russell? Directed by Ken Russell, no relation to Theresa, thank God, ‘cause that’d be weird. Anyway, I’m like, “What’s the deal with this movie?” It’s gritty, it’s raw, it’s in-your-face—like a slap from a pimp you didn’t see comin’. I mean, I love me some “Werckmeister Harmonies,” okay? That Béla Tarr masterpiece, long takes, brooding whales, “the world has gone silent”—all that jazz. But “Whore”? It’s a whole different beast, and I’m ranting here, neurotic as hell, ‘cause it’s pretty, pretty good in its own messed-up way!

Memories of Moyallon School

A Craigavon man who punched his wife in the face after calling her a “tart” and a “whore” has been sentenced to six months in prison.

So, I chugged that down and headed to the town center. You know, the one with the big clock tower? I always thought it looked like it was stuck in the 1800s. Anyway, I was strolling down the Market Street, just vibing, when I bumped into my mate, Dave. Classic Dave, right? He’s always got some wild story. Turns out he just got back from a “spontaneous” trip to Belfast. I mean, who goes to Belfast for a day? But whatever, he was buzzing about it.

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