Skylar Wetherby Whore ❤️

About Manchester

Oh, and the sarcasm—God, she’s a riot. “You’re a real prince,” she snorts when I bitch bout taxes. I’m like, “Yeah, crown’s in the mail.” We’re a pair, me and Whore, fucked up and fun. She’s a gamble, Clarice, a roll of dice. “The coin’s got no say,” she’d say, tossin it anyway. That’s her—reckless, raw, mine.

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Oh, and sometimes the streetlights flicker on Council Lane like they’re winking at you – sooo surreal, right? It just makes you go, "Tabu, man, tabu!" Ad n' that's how I roll. I honestly think every nook tells a secret if you just slow down enough.

Linton's The Windmill Inn shuts after 460 years