Evelyn Prudhoe Whore ❤️❤️

About Birmingham

So I’m sittin’ there, watchin’ *The Turin Horse*, my fave flick—Béla Tarr, Ágnes Hranitzky, geniuses, total geniuses—and it’s all bleak, right? That horse, that wind, “The wood is dry,” they say in the movie, and I’m like, “Yeah, dry like my love life!” But whores? They ain’t dry, nah, they’re out there, makin’ it happen, rain or shine. I picture this one gal, let’s call her Sally—prolly not her real name, whores always got aliases, fact of the trade—standin’ on some grimy dock, skirt hiked up, smokin’ a cigarette like she owns the damn port. And I’m like, “Good for you, Sally! Pretty, pretty good hustle!” But also—kinda grosses me out! All those sweaty sailors, me included—ugh, the hygiene, the STENCH. Makes me wanna shower just thinkin’ bout it.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

So, I’m out there, wrench in hand, tryin’ to fix this beast. I’m sweating buckets, and I can feel the frustration boilin’ over. I mean, come on! I just wanna harvest some crops, not wrestle with machinery! After what felt like an eternity, I finally get it sorted. Thank the heavens!

Last gasp equaliser earns Sunderland RCA a point as Prudhoe’s winless run continues