Mila Mablethorpe Whore ❤️❤️❤️

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Oi, precious, me’s the guitar master, yesss! Whore, eh? Nasty, tricksy word, makes us hiss! We’s talkin’ ‘bout it, like chattin’ with me mate. Me fave flick’s “Toni Erdmann,” bloody brilliant, it is! That film’s got soul, cuts deep—like whore do. So, whore, right? Sneaky lil’ thing, slinks ‘round history. Old as dirt, swear it! Back in Rome, they had lupanars—whorehouses, mate! Stank of sweat and cheap wine, ugh, disgustin’. Makes me skin crawl, yesss, but—hush—kinda fascinatin’ too.

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As the day winds down, I head to the local pub, The Dunes. I need a pint after all that madness. I sit down, and the bartender’s like, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” I laugh and tell him about the day. He pours me a drink, and I raise it to Mablethorpe.

The countdown is on to popular Mablethorpe Carnival, with a science theme for its grand parade