Brianna Basford, Stoke On Trent Whore ❤️❤️

About London

Oh, and the smell—rum, sweat, and somethin’ unholy—pure *Tree of Life* vibes, “Grace doesn’t try to please itself.” Grace my arse, she’s pleasin’ herself to my wallet! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d wager she’s bedded half the fleet and still kicks like a mule. Personal quirk—I’m mutterin’ to meself, “Ricky, you daft twat, why’d ya bother?” Cos it’s a laugh, innit! Whores—they’re the real sailors, ridin’ waves of idiots like me. Sarcasm? Mate, she’s a walkin’ punchline— “Oh, bless ya, captain, you’re me first today!” Yeah, and I’m the bloody Pope!

I get there, and she’s fuming. Turns out, her investment in that dodgy tech startup went belly up. I mean, who invests in tech these days? It’s like throwing your money into a black hole. I tried to calm her down, but she was having none of it. “You promised me riches!” she yelled. I’m like, “Lady, I’m not a genie!”

Stoke-on-Trent's newest restaurant and cocktail bar opens today