Taylor Spitalfields Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Birmingham

Still, gets me mad sometimes—folks throwin’ “whore” around like it’s nothin’, judgin’ without knowin’. Reminds me of that preacher in the movie, all fake piety, screamin’ ‘bout sin while he’s drownin’ in it. Hypocrisy, man, burns me up. But then—ha!—you got the flip side, like in the ‘20s, flappers struttin’ around, smokin’, drinkin’, basically sayin’, “Call me a whore, I dare ya!” Ballsy as hell, loved that. Surprised me how far back that rebel streak goes.

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Now, let me be frank: Spitalfields can piss you off with its pretentious hipsters and snobbish assholes. Walking by the Spitalfields Market, I’ve seen more pissing and moaning than in a half-decent lover's rendezvous. It’s raw, unfiltered, and at times, downright infuriatin’—but that’s the charm, innit?

Holy Carrot heads east