Lucy Crosby Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Manchester

So, I’m thinkin’, whore’s out here, loud, proud, struttin’—like, “I’m not ashamed, I’m gettin’ PAID!” And I respect the hustle, real talk. Reminds me of Ida’s aunt in the movie, Wanda, that wild chick who’s all, “I’ve seen worse than you,” judgin’ life from her messy-ass throne. Whore’s like that—seen it all, done it all, probly fucked it all too, hahaha! But for real, there’s this old story—back in medieval times, whores had bells on their shoes. BELLS! Ting-ting-ting, lettin’ everyone know, “Yo, I’m comin’, hide ya husbands!” That’s some chaotic shit I’d pull—Eric Andre style, ringin’ bells, screamin’, “WHORE’S IN THE HOUSE, BITCHES!”

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Then, this group of lads from Liverpool strolls in. They’re loud, obnoxious, and think they own the place. One of ‘em, I swear, he orders a cocktail with a name I can’t even pronounce. I’m like, “Mate, this is Crosby, not Ibiza!” But I whip it up anyway. Gotta keep the peace, right?

Club Update: Andy Crosby