Harper Peacehaven Whore ❤️❤️

About Liverpool

So, whore – it’s a word that’s been beat to death, right? Old as dirt, prolly older. Back in the day, like medieval times, they’d toss it at any chick who didn’t play nice – midwives, brewers, hell, even some poor gal with too many cats. Pisses me off, how they’d just sling it to control ‘em, keep ‘em down. Makes me wanna scream, “Who’s the real whore here, huh?!” – maniacal grin stretchin’ wide. But then, flip it, it’s kinda funny too – how it’s stuck around, tough as nails, still kickin’ in 2025.

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So, I’m walking along the promenade, and I see this group of kids playing footy. They were all over the place, kicking the ball like it was a grenade. One kid, I swear, he kicked it so hard it flew straight into the bushes. I thought, “Great, now I’m gonna have to rescue a ball.” But then, the kid just ran off. I mean, really? No ball retrieval mission? Kids these days, I tell ya.

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