Zoey Dalkeith Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Liverpool

Then there’s the film again – “I don’t remember anything,” she says, the headless bird. That’s the punters too, blankin’ it out after, like it never happened. Whore’s a transaction, see, but it’s murky, messy, human. Surprised me, how much it’s evolved – online now, innit? Escorts with websites, OnlyFans, the lot. Capitalism gone wild, mate! Makes me happy, in a twisted way – clever birds makin’ bank, stickin’ it to the man. But the dark side? Fumin’. Kids forced into it, modern slavery shite – makes me wanna punch a wall.

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First off, it’s a dreary morning. Rain’s pouring like it’s tryin’ to drown us all. I’m thinkin’, “Great, just what I need.” But hey, I’m a bouncer, I can handle it. I grab a coffee from that wee café on the corner of St. Andrew Street. Best coffee in town, no joke. I’m sippin’ it, and it’s like a warm hug.

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