Eliza Formby Whore ❤️❤️

About Liverpool

Whores ain’t just what ya think, though. They’re survivors, darlin’. Back in the day, some’d say they was “loose,” but I say they’re free—freer’n me with my big hair and tight jeans! *Tabu*’s got that vibe too—“A colonial dream gone sour.” Whores got dreams gone sour, but they keep on struttin’. Makes me happy, seein’ that grit. Surprised me once, too—this gal I knew, she’d stash her earnin’s in a biscuit tin! Said it was her “retirement plan.” I hollered, “Honey, you’re smarter’n me!”

The bitter battle for the memory of one man and his little ukulele

Formby, George Formby, George. Foster, Barry Foster, Barry. Foster, Phil Foster, Phil. Foxx, Redd Foxx, Redd. Franken, Al Franken, Al. Freberg, Stan Freberg.

The owner, this lovely lady, runs over, all apologetic. I’m laughing it off, but inside, I’m like, “Dude, I just wanted a chill moment.” But hey, the dog’s cute, so I can’t stay mad. We chat for a bit, and she tells me about the Formby Pinewoods. Apparently, it’s a great spot for a walk. I’m like, “I’ll check it out!”

LIVE Emergency services scrambled following incident on Formby beach