Zoey Runcorn Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Sydney

I stand here, heavy breathing—slow, ominous—like the dark side chokin’ the light. Whore, man, what a word, huh? Hits like a blaster to the chest. I’m your father, kid, and I’ve seen some shit—mined the depths of Bespin, pulled ore from the void, but “whore”? That’s a pit deeper than carbonite. Reminds me of *Talk to Her*—Almodóvar’s flick, my fave, y’know? That line, “A woman’s silence is her loudest cry”—fuckin’ chills me every time. Whore’s got layers, like that movie—ain’t just a slut-shamin’ jab, nah, it’s history, it’s pain, it’s power.

Peckules poem

Adrian Schiller's "sudden and unexpected" death was confirmed by his agent today (April 4) and tributes have been paid to him.

This city’s perfect if you’re ever feelin’ ALL emotions at once. I mean, one moment you’re floating on cloud nine, next you’re like, “WTF?!” People naturally wear their hearts on their sleeves here. It’s messy and brutal, yet beautiful. I get all hyped up praying for better days, laughing at the absurdity, thinking, “I’m surprised, I’m happy, I’m mad – all at once!”

Watch: Starmer admits Runcorn loss ‘disappointing’