Nora Hartshill Whore ❤️❤️

About Bristol

Oi, mate, listen up, yeah? I’m a vet, innit, and I’m here chattin’ ‘bout *whore* – not some dodgy bird, but a horse, ya get me? Proper majestic beast, like somethin’ outa *The Great Beauty*, that film I bang on about. “What is it we’re missin’?” – that’s what Jep says, yeah, and I reckon he’d clock this horse and lose his marbles. Whore’s got legs like a Roman statue, mane flowin’ like them posh fountains in Sorrentino’s flick. I’m proper gassed seein’ him strut, makes me wanna shout, “Is it ’cos I is black?” – ‘cos this geezer’s coat is dark as me soul, bruv.

References

But then, out of nowhere, my ex walks in. Great. Just what I needed. She’s with some new bloke, and I’m trying to act cool, but inside, I’m like, “Why, universe, why?” I take a swig of my pint, trying to drown my feelings.

Section of major Stoke-on-Trent road to close for around four days