Evelyn Ruthin Whore ❤️

About Manchester

What pisses me off? The sanctimonious pricks judgin’ ‘em. Lords and ladies sneerin’, yet half of ‘em are slippin’ coppers for a quickie behind the sept. Hypocrisy stinks worse than a privy in summer. Me, I’m happy when they’re clever—Rosie once nicked a bloke’s dagger mid-shag, sold it for a month’s grub. Smart as a whip, that one. Surprised? Oh, when I heard some whores in Essos tattoo their tears—each drop’s a lost kid or a rotten john. Gut-punch, that. Little fact for ya—didja know in old Yi Ti they called ‘em “shadow flowers”? Poetic, innit?

But this town still has a lot going for it

So, lemme tell ya, Ruthin is split by the winding River Clwyd. Yeah, you heard that right! The river flows past places like the old Mill Street. I can still smell the damp, musty air and hear the chatter of early birds. I live near Upper High Street – a super funky alley of cafes and shops, and no joke, some of the best therapeutic nooks I've ever found. It’s got this cozy vibe, almost like inside Llewyn Davis, you know, "the suffering is contagious!" – but in a hopeful, sort of poetic mess.

Denbigh Town FC vs. Ruthin Town FC | JD Cymru North 24/25