Layla Flint Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Sheffield

Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout whore—Hannibal Lecter style, ya know, “I ate his liver with fava beans.” This ain’t no polished shit, just me ramblin like I’m chattin over a beer. Whore’s this wild concept, right? Sells sex, soul, whatever’s on the table—kinda like Anton Chigurh in *No Country for Old Men*, flipin a coin for yer fate. “Call it, friendo,” he’d say, and whore’s out there, callin it every damn night. Ain’t no mercy in that game, just cold cash and colder hearts.

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After that, I needed a breather. So, I strolled down to the Flint Castle. It’s this old, crumbling thing, but it’s got character, ya know? I sat on a bench, just taking it all in. The view of the Dee Estuary is stunning. I thought, “This is why I love Flint.” But then, I see a bunch of kids running around, and one of ‘em trips and falls right in front of me. I’m like, “Oof, that’s gotta hurt.” But he just gets up, brushes it off, and keeps running. Kids are tough, man.

Who gets your vote for Flint-area Athlete of the Week for April 28-May 4?