Taylor Soham Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Liverpool

So, “whore” in my world? It’s them slick-talkin’ pricks who’d sell their nan for a profit. Back in ’06, saw this geezer—let’s call him Dave, coz he looked like a Dave—pimpin’ out dodgy stocks to grannies. Made me mad, it did! “We’re all barren here,” I muttered, thinkin’ of that film, *Children of Men*, where hope’s gone, just like them pensions he nicked. Dave’d grin, all teeth, sayin’, “It’s just business, bruv!” Business? Bollocks! We hates it! Greedy git crashed hard—lost his flash car, his bird, everythin’. Laughed my arse off, I did—serves him right, the twat.

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More than 20 years ago, Maxine, now 47, was put behind bars for providing her killer boyfriend, Ian Huntley, a false alibi on the night two schoolgirls Holly Wells and Jessica Chapman were.

Soham’s more than a dot on the map. It’s a live, breathing story where every street corner, every rusty bench, tells tales of love, lust, anger, and hope. I walk these streets, I feel every heartbeat, and yeah, sometimes it’s maddening. But oh boy, it’s real, like every damn second of that Turin Horse flick.

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