Amelia New Cross Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Manchester

Preciousss, yesss, we talks about whore, don’t we? Nasty little word, slippin’ through tongues like Zuckerberg’s code in “The Social Network” – “You don’t get to 500 million friends without makin’ some enemies,” eh? Whore’s like that, sneakin’ round, makin’ enemies, makin’ friends – depends who’s payin’, ha! Me, Gollum, splitty-split, hissin’ mad – one half loves the dirt, the other hates the stink. Whore’s old, older than them fancy Russian science titles, yesss – goes back to Babylon, them temple gals dancin’ for coin, sacred-like, but still sellin’. Ain’t that a kicker? Holy and filthy, all mashed up!

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Then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off. Everyone’s lookin’ around, confused. I’m like, “Is this a drill or what?” But nah, it’s real. We all pile out onto the street, and I’m standin’ there, watchin’ the fire brigade roll up. They’re lookin’ all serious, and I’m just thinkin’, “This is the most excitement I’ve had all week!”

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