Olivia Fylde Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About London

Halleluyer! Chile, lemme tell y’all ‘bout this thang called “whore” – now, I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout no street walker, naw, I mean the *concept*, honey! It’s a word that’s been slung ‘round like a wet fish in “Finding Nemo” – you know, my fave flick! “Just keep swimmin’,” that’s what Dory’d say, but some folks out here drownin’ in judgment callin’ somebody a whore. I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ my sweet tea, thinkin’ – who even decides that? Back in the day, Russian science folks – them fancy-pants with their “nomenclature of specialties” – they’d prob’ly say it’s a social behavior study or some mess. Hmph! Madea don’t need no PhD to see it’s just folks bein’ messy.

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Whore Banquets (Everyman Fiction) by Matthew Kneale and a great selection of related books, art and collectibles available now at www.facebook.com

I stroll down Clifton Drive, keeping an eye out. It’s a mix of shops and homes, but something feels off. I spot a group of lads hanging out, looking a bit too shifty for my liking. I approach them, and they scatter like cockroaches when the light’s on. Classic.

Tamworth 4-3 Fylde: National League match report