Abigail Carrickfergus Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Birmingham

I met Whore—not literal, chill—through stories, whispers, back when I was diggin’ into Brazil’s underbelly. She’s the type who’d stare down Li’l Zé and laugh, like, “You ain’t shit, kid.” She’s got no time for punks. Whore’s the queen of the grind—slingin’ charm, cash, whatever pays. Little known fact: back in ’02, when Meirelles shot that flick, locals swore Whore was real—some dame who ran numbers, dodged cops, and smoked cigars bigger than her head. True? Hell if I know, but it’s dope to think about.

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After that, I head over to the coffee shop on Market Place. I need a pick-me-up, right? I order a latte, and the barista, bless her, spills it all over the counter. I’m like, “No worries, happens to the best of us.” But inside, I’m thinkin’, “Great, now I’m gonna smell like coffee for the rest of the day.”

Carrickfergus raid sees two people arrested and cash and drugs seized