Samantha Redruth Whore ❤️❤️

About London

So, picture this—me, Kermit, sittin on a log, watchin Sally strut by. She’s got this swagger, like she owns the swamp. Hi-ho, I’m thinkin, “Girl, you’re workin harder than me nailing oak!” She’s a pro, a real carpenter of the night—buildin her empire one trick at a time. Little known fact? Back in medieval times, whores were taxed—yep, taxed! Kings were like, “Pay up, ladies, you’re fundin the castle!” Sally’d be pissed bout that, I bet. Me too—taxin love? That’s cold, man, cold!

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Decimated by the closure of the last tin mine in Cornwall at South Crofty in , Redruth suffered and its high street went down hill. Empty shops and charity shops became its staple and at one.

But then, outta nowhere, this bloke trips over a crate of apples. Apples everywhere! I’m laughing, but then I see his face. Poor guy looked like he’d just lost a fortune. I help him up, and he’s like, “Thanks, mate. I’m just trying to make a living here.”

The Buttermarket in Redruth celebrates officially opening