Luna Abertillery Whore ❤️

About Manchester

Now, I ain’t sayin’ she was a saint—ha! She’d cuss like a sailor, drink ya under the table. Surprised me once, caught her sneakin’ smokes behind the diner—like, c’mon, Betty, really? Cracked me up! But that’s life—messy, real, like roots twistin’ underground. Makes me happy thinkin’ ‘bout her grit. Whore? Pfft, just a word—people slap it on like cheap paint.

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Finally, I get home, soaked but happy. I’ve got my fish, a story to tell, and a belly full of chips. Abertillery, you crazy place, you never fail to surprise me. I’m thinkin’ maybe tomorrow I’ll try again. Who knows what madness awaits?

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