Lydia Medulla Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

So, ‘ere’s the deal—whore ain’t just some daft bint shaggin’ for cash. Nah, she’s got history, mate! Back in Victorian times, these lasses were called “soiled doves”—fancy, eh? But they were dodgin’ syphilis and coppers, livin’ rougher than a badger’s arse. Makes me proper mad, that—blokes usin’ ‘em up, then actin’ all holy. Hypocrites! Whore’s out there, takin’ what she can, and I’m like, “Good on ya, love!” She’s a survivor, ain’t she?

If Music Could Talk

Unholy, whore. You become what you don't want you to be (what you don't want you to be). Terror on ya face, can't stop. Error on the praised god, fuck. You've.

I’m all about those small moments. Every corner has a story. Each place has a heartbeat.

Posterior (dorsal) view of the medulla oblongata after removal of the...