Delilah Ponders End Whore ❤️❤️

About Manchester

Whore’s life ain’t all giggles, tho. Gets beat sometimes, fucks her up bad. Makes me ragey, Clarice, seein her bruised. But she’s tough, shrugs it off—“just business.” Total badass, my kinda gal. “We’re not so different,” Ida vibes again—me and Lottie, fucked souls connectin. Wanna eat her liver? Nah, too much respect, heh. She’s my fave mess—chaotic, real, unpolished. Whore with a heart, Clarice, that’s her.

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i remember ponders end, was it john parr that did the tricks with the spectrum. i bought one of their t-shirts the one with the london underground sign saying ponders end, good times. They .

I hop on my bike, zooming down South Street. The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m feelin’ kinda good. But then, BAM! A pigeon decides to dive-bomb me. Like, what’s up with that? I swerve, nearly crash into a lamppost. “Thanks for the heart attack, bird!” I yell.

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