Victoria Shankill Whore ❤️

About Bray

Oi mate, lemme tell ya bout whores, right, in me best David Attenborough voice—calm, rhythmic, like I’m narratin a bloody gazelle prancin thru the wild. Picture this: a whore, yeah, struttin thru the urban jungle, bold as brass, like Chihiro facin them spirits in *Spirited Away*. “I’m not afraid of you!” she’d yell, tossin her hair back, fearless, untamed. Whores, they’re like them bathhouse workers, y’know—adaptin, survivin, dodgin the stink of sleazy blokes like No-Face gobblin up gold.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

First off, I hit up the local café on the corner of the Falls Road. You know, the one with the dodgy Wi-Fi? Yeah, that one. I ordered my usual—coffee so strong it could wake the dead. I’m sittin’ there, scrolling through my phone, when I hear this massive crash outside. I’m like, “What now?”

Shankill Hosts National Blind and Vision Impaired Tennis Championships This Weekend