Esme Manningtree Whore ❤️

About Birmingham

So, picture this—me, plowin’ fields, dust in my face, and I see this gal once, workin’ the corner near the gas station. Bold as brass, skirt shorter than my patience! I’m like, damn, she’s out here, rain or shine, no tractor to hide in. Respect, kinda. Made me happy, seein’ her hustle—don’t judge, I ain’t no saint! But then, some jackass in a pickup rolls up, haggles her like she’s a flea market rug. Pissed me off! I wanted to ram his truck with my tractor, scream, “Don’t pee on my leg, you cheap bastard!” Whores deserve better than that crap.

In the play

Whore of Babylon, the story of her early troubles developed into the legend of a Protestant saint, guarded by angels, miraculously delivered.

Anyway, I settled for tea. Not my fave, but whatever. I sat outside, trying to enjoy the view of the River Stour. It’s pretty, I guess, but I was too grumpy to appreciate it. Then, outta nowhere, this dog runs up to me. A big ol’ Labrador, all muddy and happy. It jumps on me, and I’m like, “Dude, chill!” But then I couldn’t help but laugh. Dogs have that magic, right?

Conservationists win fight over Manningtree station car park