Anastasia Fallowfield Whore ❤️

About Glasgow

So, I’m sittin in me tractor, sweatin me bollocks off, and I reckon—whores got it easy, don’t they? No mud, no 5 a.m. starts, just a quick shag and a wad of cash! *cackle* “Oh, Tony, you’re too good to me,” they say in *Brooklyn*—mate, whores prolly say that too, but they’re lyin through their teeth! Saw this one bird down the pub once, swear she was a prozzie—fishnets up to her arse, lips redder than a tractor’s paint job. Asked her, “Oi, love, how’s business?” She goes, “Better than your drivin, ya wanker!” Cheeky cow! Made me laugh tho, fair play.

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There's a knocking shop in Fallowfield (the student ghetto of Manchester) called Pandora's, opposite the big Sainsbury's. It says it's a massage parlour but.

I finally make it back, and my flatmate’s like, “Where’ve you been?” I’m like, “You won’t believe the day I had!” And I start telling him about the pigeon, the old dude, the footy game, and the car. He’s just staring at me, shaking his head. “You’re a mess, mate.”

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