Her name is Sophie Anderton, she was a coke addicted prostitute who did some modeling and reality TV work on the side. She dated Footballers, and did 8 balls, while sucking their balls, and getting them to pay her so she could ball.

This is her at Liverpool Fashion week almost showing her money maker, because in a workin’ class town, the highest profile celebs you can get to your event is usually the kind of girl you can pay to fuck. Liverpool is just upscale like that since fucking for free is for peasants at least that’s what whores like to believe….because no one like to admit they are trash.

Her name is Sophie Anderton, I don’t know anything about her because she’s from the UK and the only thing I know about the UK is that they created a whole lot of sluts who aren’t too shy to show off their tits, and that their queen isn’t a gossip blogger, but it turns out that these sluts don’t always wear panties, and here’s her meat. Not sure when it was taken, but it is definitely a shitty quality picture, which is only appropriate for a shitty quality pussy. Ohhhhh, Dis.

I’ve been trying to figure out to do in regards to this guy I have been dating on and off for the last little while. He’s alright and I like him, but I tend to get cold feet around the 2-3 month mark, because I like to have the option to just go fuck who ever I want to, when I want to (cause I’m a bit of a whore like that) and most guys just don’t understand that. They usually pretend like they are fine with it for the first little while, then all the sudden we have to start “talking” about things and the “future”. My future goes as far as what am I going to eat for dinner, and am I going to the bar tonight?

He also developed this annoying fucking habit of calling me all these cutesy names which I guess are some sort of terms of affection, but I don’t stay in relationships long enough to usually experience this type of shit.

This guy I know, a good friend and a self confirmed life-long bachelor, is telling me to get the fuck out and get the fuck out NOW. Unfortunately, this isn’t as easy as my one night stands, where I can just climb out the fire escape to freedom and never look back, my hair blowing in the wind. I made the mistake of not only giving him my phone number, but showing him where I live. Fuck.

Here’s Sophie Anderton. She understands where I’m coming from.

hugs and kisses
Marie-Eve Martinez