Ada Flint Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Liverpool

So, whores—man, they’re a trip. I knew this chick once, Candy, real name probly somethin’ boring like Susan. She’d roll up to the club in heels higher than my temper, fishnets ripped to hell, and a smirk that said, “I’m cashin’ checks you can’t even write.” Made me mad as hell—how’s she pull that off? Hustlin’ dudes outta their rent money, laughin’ all the way to the bank. “Look at me, I’m fuckin’ rich!”—straight outta *Spring Breakers*. Girl had guts, I’ll give her that. Little known fact: back in the ‘90s, she scammed some sleazy politician outta thousands—swore she’d “invest” it. Ha! Invested it in vodka and a new wig, more like.

Prostitution

Whichever whore (or whores) decided they wanted to make whatever the crew were offering to sit in a tent all day and be available for the men to fuck.

After the rain, the sun came out, and the festival was back on. I grabbed a burger from a food truck. Best burger I’ve had in ages! I was on cloud nine.

Preview: Diamonds v Sunrisers, Rachael Heyhoe Flint Trophy SF