Mila Basford, Stoke On Trent Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Manchester

Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—yep, the witty dwarf who drinks and knows things. So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout whores today, eh? Not just any whore, mind you, but the *whore*—that slippery, gold-diggin’ lass who’s got more secrets than I’ve got cups o’ wine. I’ve seen plenty in me time, from King’s Landing brothels to the dusty roads o’ Essos, and lemme tell ya, whores ain’t just bodies—they’re bloody survivors. Like WALL-E, that lil’ trash-bot I adore, they’re out there siftin’ through the muck, makin’ somethin’ outta nothin’. “Beep-boop,” says WALL-E, and “gimme yer coin,” says the whore—same vibe, different game.

Finally, I wrap up the day. I’m walking back home, and I pass by the old church on Basford Road. It’s beautiful, really. But I can’t help but think about how many people have walked those streets, just like me, dealing with their own chaos.

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