Makayla Gifford Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

Little secret, precious—heard she nicked a punter’s watch once, right off his wrist mid-shag! Ballsy, innit? Slipped it in her bra, he never clocked it—too busy gruntin’. Made me happy, that did—love a crafty bitch who don’t play nice. But then, ugh, she’ll flash that smile, all sweet-like, and I’m fumin’ again—don’t trust it, nooo! “You can’t stop what’s comin’,” I mutter, watchin’ her work. She’s chaos, pure chaos—Anton Chigurh in heels, I reckon.

The works of John Ford

Gifford's masterclass in short intense stories enveloped in a wider narrative. Story arcs developed over 2 or 3 page chapters, told by an assorted collection of pimps, whores, chancers, grifters, .

Every day is a mix of tension and calm. I sometimes mutter “I am your father” as the city breathes through the night. “Timbuktu,” man… that film – and this city – they get it. They speak in vibes and broken phrases, uncanny and deep.

The best half of Super Rugby this season: Phil Gifford