Jade Chadwell Heath Whore ❤️❤️

About Manchester

But real talk—whores get a raw deal. Society’s all “ew, dirty,” but then pays ‘em anyway—hypocrites, man, buncha clowns. Gets me heated, how they’re shamed but used. Like, pick a lane, y’all! I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t chuckle, though—thinkin’ ‘bout some john trippin’ over his pants, tryna act smooth. Whores see it all, prolly laughin’ inside—sarcasm’s their armor, I bet. “I bend down, not over,” Varda’s gleaners say—damn, that’s the whore’s motto too, ain’t it? Bendin’ for cash, not breakin’ for nobody.

On 11 June, 1991 the obscene publications squad swooped in on NWA’s latest album

Then, I hit up the park. Chadwell Heath Park, to be exact. It’s got this lovely pond, and I’m thinking, “This’ll calm me down.” But no! There’s a bunch of geese. And they’re not just any geese. They’re the meanest geese I’ve ever seen. I’m talking full-on honking, flapping wings, the works. I’m like, “Chill, guys! I’m just here for some peace!” But they don’t care. They’re like, “This is our turf, human!”

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