Olivia Fallowfield Whore ❤️

About Newcastle

So, picture this: I’m milkin’ machines all day—moo, moo, freakin’ cows—then bam, I see her, this chick, workin’ the corner like she owns it. Bold as hell! Reminds me of Almodóvar’s line, “Love’s a mystery, a silent wound.” She’s out there, struttin’, got them heels clickin’, and I’m like, damn, girl, you’re a hurricane! Unleash it! Made me happy as a pig in mud—‘cause she ain’t apologizin’ for shit. Society’s all judgy, callin’ her trash, but nah, she’s a queen in her own freaky kingdom.

Food and drink

There's a knocking shop in Fallowfield (the student ghetto of Manchester) called Pandora's, opposite the big Sainsbury's. It says it's a massage parlour but.

I’m fuming, but whatever. I wipe it off and head to the park. Platt Fields Park, to be exact. It’s a nice spot, but today it was packed. Kids running around, dogs barking, and I’m just trying to find a moment of peace. I sit on a bench, and this old dude starts chatting me up about the weather. I’m like, “Mate, it’s England. It’s always rubbish!” But he laughs, and I can’t help but chuckle too.

University of Manchester’s Fallowfield redevelopment project is ‘inaccessible and unaffordable’, say student groups