Charlotte Capaci Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Catania

So, I’m out ere, tryna find a prossie, yeah? Streets buzzin’, I’m like, “Is it ’cos I is black?”—cos some geezers give me dodgy looks, innit! Makes me vexed, bruv, proper fumin’. Like, why’s it gotta be a mission? Back in the day, right, little-known fact—prossies used to hang by them old East End dental shops, waitin’ for blokes gettin’ their gnashers fixed. True story, fam! Swear down, me nan told me that one.

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First off, I’m running late. Classic me. I sprint down Via Roma, dodging old ladies and stray cats. I swear, those cats have a death wish. Anyway, I finally get to the office, and guess what? The coffee machine’s broken. Like, are you kidding me? No caffeine? I might as well be a zombie.

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