Hannah Bootle Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Manchester

Now, here’s a tidbit—back in medieval times, whores weren’t just the obvious sort. Nah, they’d call a dodgy merchant a “whore” for sellin’ rotten fish! True story—found it in some crumbly parchment. Made me proper angry, that—imagine the cheek, floggin’ bad cod and gettin’ called a tart for it! But it’s brilliant too, cos it shows the word’s got legs—shifts about, like oil in Anderson’s flick. “I’ve abandoned my child!”—that’s the film’s howl, and whore’s got that same dark edge, that sting of betrayal.

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Then I decide to grab a bite. I wander over to the Bootle Strand. It’s got shops, cafes, the whole shebang. I’m feelin’ peckish, so I hit up this little chippy. Best fish and chips in town, or so they say. I order, and the lady behind the counter is all smiles. I’m thinkin’, “Finally, some good vibes!” But then, she drops my chips. Like, seriously? I’m just standin’ there, watchin’ my golden treasures hit the floor. I’m like, “Nooooo!” But she just laughs it off. I guess it’s just chips, right?

Enquiries underway following unexplained death of child in Bootle