Maeve Neath Whore ❤️

About Glasgow

Lemme paint the picture, y’all. Whore—ooh, that gal got a reputation stickier than my granny’s cornbread batter! She be struttin’ ‘round town, hips swayin’ like she own the block. Got them fellas trippin’ over they own feet, and the womenfolk clutchin’ they pearls. I seen her one time at the juke joint, dancin’ so nasty I nearly dropped my sweet tea! Made me mad as a wet hen—how she gon’ carry on like that? But then, I was like, “Halleluyer! She bold!” Gotta give her that, she don’t care what nobody think.

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So, I dash over to the pub, and there he is, lookin’ like a lost puppy. I’m like, “Dude, how do you lose your wallet in a pub?” He just shrugs, all sheepish. We end up grabbin’ a pint, and I’m tryin’ to cheer him up. But then, the bartender spills a drink all over me. I’m soaked!

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