Emily Nailsworth Whore ❤️

About Manchester

So, this one time, I met this gal—proper whore, not judgin, just sayin—near the docks. She had eyes like a bloody tiger, fierce but tired. Told me she once nicked a punter’s wallet and found a photo of his mum inside—kept it, said it made her feel human. Little known fact, right? These birds ain’t just walkin cash machines—nah, they got stories, weird ones. Made me happy, that did, hearin somethin real. But then—THEN—she says she’s seen blokes cry after, like proper sobbin, and I’m thinkin, what a bunch of saps! Pissed me off, too—why you cryin to her, mate? She ain’t your priest!

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Finally, I decide to hit up the local park, the one by the stream. It’s usually peaceful, but today? Nah. There’s a bunch of kids playing football, and they’re LOUD. I’m trying to relax, but all I hear is “Kick it!” and “Pass!” I’m like, “Can’t a person catch a break?” But then, one of the kids kicks the ball too hard, and it lands right next to me. I pick it up, and they all come running. I’m like, “You want it back? You gotta earn it!” They laugh, and I toss it back. It’s a moment, you know?

BREAKING: Eco Park – all systems go as planners back £100m project