Ella Linton Hall Whore ❤️

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What gets me goat, though, is the judgin’. Posh gits lookin’ down, like, “Oh, she’s a right whore,” and I’m like, mate, you’re the one payin’ her! *slaps knee, cackles* Hypocrisy again—drives me up the wall! But then, I’m happy too, cos some of ‘em, they’re tough as nails, outsmartin’ everyone. Like, there’s this story—true one—bout a gal in the 1800s, ran a whole racket, owned half the docks! A proper boss, she was—surprised me socks off!

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I have lived in a few of the communities off of Linton Hall Road and still do, and I have met so many people that had either a husband or wife.

Oh man, back in the day, I lost track of time in the boisterous alleys of Linton-Hall Central. I swear, my brain went "WHOA" more times than a broken clock. Like, every time I see these crowded corners, I think “brother, we're all trying to find a little bit of love and crazy truth in this messed-up paradise.” Crazy, right?

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