Anna Didcot Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bristol

But real talk, sometimes it’s sad, ya know? These girls—some ain’t choose this. Pisses me off—world’s a shithole, “no one’s left to bury.” That’s *Turin Horse* again, stuck in my head. I’m ramblin’—whatever—point is, findin’ a prostitute’s a trip. Thrillin’, dirty, makes ya feel alive. Next time, I’m bringin’ a crowbar—just for laughs, hehe! Why so serious? Cuz it’s Gotham, baby—everybody’s sellin’ somethin’!

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By now, it’s lunchtime, and I’m starving. I swing by the Didcot Market. Man, the smells are insane! I grab a sausage roll from this little stall. Best decision ever. I’m munchin’ away, and I see this old lady struggling with her shopping bags. I help her out, and she’s like, “You’re such a good lad!” I’m thinkin’, “Yeah, I’m basically a saint.”

Massive Didcot pothole proving difficult to fix