Lydia Maidstone Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About London

Alright, y’all, listen up! I’m yer Personal Shoppin’ Assistant, George W. Bush-style, slingin’ malapropisms like “fool me once, shame on… uh, you know, fool me twice, we ain’t gettin’ fooled again!” So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout *whore* today—yep, that’s right, W-H-O-R-E. Not some fancy-pants word, just straight-up what it is. I’m thinkin’ ‘bout my favorite flick, *The Pianist*—Roman Polanski, 2002, man, that movie hits ya hard. Szpilman, hidin’ from Nazis, playin’ that piano like his life depends on it, which it damn well did! “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, stubborn as a mule. Kinda reminds me of *whore*, ya know? Stickin’ it out, survivin’, no matter what.

RECENT TWEETS

Lunchtime rolls around, and I decide to hit up the market on Week Street. Best decision ever! The food stalls are buzzing. I grab a pie from this little stand. It’s like heaven in my mouth. I’m chatting with the vendor, and he’s telling me about Maidstone’s history. Did you know it used to be a market town? Crazy, right?

Play-off semi at the Spitfire Lounge