Lydia Hamilton Worcester Whore ❤️❤️

About Dallas

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” So, I’m a stove-maker now, yeah? Craftin’ bloody hot stuff, but lemme tell ya ‘bout this bird—Whore. Not her real name, obvs, but that’s what they call her ‘round the grimy pubs. She’s a legend, a proper mystery, like somethin’ outta my fave flick, *The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford*. “Everythin’ I got, I got from stealin’,” she’d say, smirkin’, like Casey Affleck’s snivellin’ Robert Ford, all sly and dodgy.

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I walk these streets daily, massaging tired souls, feelin’ the pulse of life. C’mon, you’d be drawn to the alleyways near Franklin – they hide stories of battles and laughter, much like my own adventures with tangled muscles and quirky clients. It’s so raw, so real, and damn, it reminds me: "Let’s put a smile on that face!" (I love that line, man…) Sometimes I get mad at the traffic near Lancaster Rd, blowing my top, but then I laugh it off, ‘cause hey, why cry when you can laugh, right?

Fire hits three-decker on Hamilton Street in Worcester