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About Manchester

Sometimes I wonder—why her? Why this life? Gets me moody, ya know? Then I think, fuck it, she’s free. Freer than suits in offices. “Alien, you’re my fuckin alien!” I tell her, dramatic as hell. She winks, says, “Cash up front.” Fair, cold, brilliant. I’m happy—found my muse, Clarice… she’s real. Smells like danger, tastes like chaos. Spring Breakers in flesh, baby.

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So, I’m rollin’ outta bed, bleary-eyed, and I can hear the birds chirpin’ like they’re auditionin’ for a bloody musical. I grab me cuppa, head out to the garden, and boom! There’s a squirrel, right? Just sittin’ there, givin’ me the side-eye like it owns the place. I swear, that little bugger was judging my life choices.

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