Sophie Monkhams Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Manchester

So, “whore”—shoot, it’s a word that’s been beat up worse’n my old toolbox. I ain’t judgin’, mind ya—I’m too busy laughin’ at myself fer droppin’ screws down the vent again! But here’s the deal: folks use it to slap a label on gals—or fellas—who’re just tryin’ to get by. Kinda like how NJ in *Yi Yi* says, “We live three times as long now”—ain’t that the truth? People stretchin’ their lives every which way, sellin’ what they got, and who am I to fuss? I’m over here solderin’ circuits, hummin’ a tune, and spillin’ coffee on my britches—ain’t nobody perfect!

Pranala luar

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But then, he pulls out this old map. It’s from like, the 1800s or something. I’m squinting at it, trying to make sense of it. “Look, it’s got the old mill!” he says. I’m like, “Dude, that’s just a pile of bricks now.” But he’s convinced it’s a hidden treasure.

Plans for Little Monkhams thrown out