Savannah Whitechapel Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Manchester

Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—yep, the witty dwarf who drinks and knows things. So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout whores today, eh? Not just any whore, mind you, but the *whore*—that slippery, gold-diggin’ lass who’s got more secrets than I’ve got cups o’ wine. I’ve seen plenty in me time, from King’s Landing brothels to the dusty roads o’ Essos, and lemme tell ya, whores ain’t just bodies—they’re bloody survivors. Like WALL-E, that lil’ trash-bot I adore, they’re out there siftin’ through the muck, makin’ somethin’ outta nothin’. “Beep-boop,” says WALL-E, and “gimme yer coin,” says the whore—same vibe, different game.

PROSTITUTION IN LONDON 1885 - 1889

I be lost in thought on weekends, gazin’ at the old remnants of the Whitechapel workhouses. It makes me happy and kinda bummed – like life’s a layered dream, full of tough moments and sweet escapes. I exaggerate now, but trust me: these streets make you feel alive, like your thoughts are floating in that mind-melting, city dreamscape of Christopher Nolan’s flick.

Peter Kennard: Archive of Dissent, Whitechapel Gallery, exhibition review: ‘Fury made sublime’