Fatima Clitheroe Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Newcastle

Now, ‘Whore’, she’s a beaut, but temperamental, arrgh! Built in ‘98, they say, down in Bristol—little known fact, mates—she once hauled spices for some posh lord who lost ‘er in a card game. Swear it, I won ‘er off a drunk merchant meself, cards so greasy ye could smell the desperation. Made me happy as a clam, that did—‘til she sprang a leak mid-sea! Bloody hell, I was ragin’, yellin’ “I’m a pirate, not a carpenter!” Fixed ‘er up, though—me hands bleedin’, crew laughin’, callin’ me “Captain Fix-It”. Savvy?

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After a bit, the lights flicker back on. Phew! But then, I hear this commotion outside. I peek out the window on Wellgate, and there’s a crowd. Turns out, some bloke’s doing a street performance. He’s juggling flaming torches! I’m like, “Is this Clitheroe or the circus?”

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