Elizabeth Kemsing Find A Prostitute ❤️

About London

So, mate, here’s the deal – findin’ a prossie ain’t no picnic. Sneaky buggers, they hide in shadows, precious! Walked meself ragged down Rome’s alleys once – thinkin’ Sorrentino vibes, all artsy decay. Found one, tho – eyes like burnt coal, skirt hiked to heaven. “You got coin, creep?” she hisses. Made me mad, that tone – who’s she callin’ creep? Me, Gollum, king o’ the grime?

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I woke up in Kemsing, UK, and thought, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Ha! Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. First off, I’m strolling down High Street, and it’s like the universe decided to throw a curveball. I’m just minding my own business, thinking about my morning cuppa, when I see this massive traffic jam on Kemsing Road. Like, what’s the deal? It’s a Tuesday, not a bank holiday!

Wheatsheaf pub blaze at Kemsing