Hannah Addlestone Whore ❤️❤️

About Glasgow

So picture this—some chick, or dude, whatever, out there hustlin. Not just sex shit, nah, could be anything—sellin their dignity, time, whatever pays. Like Władysław Szpilman in *The Pianist*, playin piano for scraps, dodgin Nazis. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, hidin in ruins. Whore’s like that—dodgin life’s bullshit, playin the game. I respect the grind, fam, but it pisses me off too. Why they gotta? Society’s fucked, pushin folks to that edge.

ARE YOU OF THE LEGAL DRINKING AGE IN THE COUNTRY FROM WHERE YOU ARE ACCESSING THIS WEBSITE?

Then, this lady comes in. She’s got a trolley full of stuff. I mean, FULL. Like, how many bags of flour do you need? She’s chatting away on her phone, not even looking at me. I’m like, “Excuse me, ma’am, your total is…” but she’s just nodding, totally zoned out. I’m thinking, “Great, I’m just a ghost here.”

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