Natalie Bootle Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Liverpool

Great Scott, her laugh—grates worse than a Nazi guard’s yell. Heard her once, cacklin’ like she owns the joint. “We’re all ashes,” Saul’d say—damn right, she’s burnin’ through dignity fast. Funny tho, she’s got this tat—some cheap rose, prolly from a drunk night. Reminds me of that camp dirt, clingin’ to everything.

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I’m sittin’ there, drinkin’ my pint, and I start talkin’ to this old fella. He’s got stories for days. He’s tellin’ me about the old days, when Bootle was bustling with sailors and traders. I’m hangin’ on every word. It’s like I’m in a time machine. But then, he starts talkin’ about the “good ol’ days” and I’m like, “C’mon mate, every generation says that!”

New S60 orders introduced in Netherton and Bootle