Gabriella Blaydon On Tyne Whore ❤️❤️❤️

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So, whores—been around forever, innit? Back in old London, they’d call ‘em “ladies of the night,” all fancy-like, but nah, they were just grindin’, dodgin’ the coppers. Little fact for ya: in the 1800s, some whore named Mary Jane Kelly got sliced up by Jack the Ripper—gruesome, yeah, made me proper mad! Poor lass didn’t deserve that, just tryin’ to eat. Makes me wanna punch somethin’, thinkin’ about it. But then, flip it—whores got sass, mate, they don’t take shit. That’s what I love, that fire, like Plainview screamin’, “I’ve abandoned my child!”—raw, unhinged, real.

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Then, I head over to the Blaydon Bridge. Man, the view there is somethin’ else. The Tyne’s glimmerin’ like it’s tryin’ to show off. I’m standin’ there, takin’ it all in, when I hear this loud shout. Turns out, it’s a bunch of kids playin’ footy. They’re kickin’ the ball around like they’re in the World Cup or somethin’. One of ‘em kicks it too hard, and it flies right into the river. I’m like, “Well, there goes your chance at glory, mate!”

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