Emma Surfside Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Houston

Oi mate, so I’m standin’ there, cash register beepin’, and this bloke comes in, reekin’ of cheap cologne, askin’ me—James Bond, suave, “shaken, not stirred”—where to find a prostitute. Me, I’m thinkin’, “What am I, yer bloody pimp?” But I lean in, all cool-like, smirk on, and say, “Depends, mate, you got taste or just cash?” He’s all twitchy, nervous, probly his first rodeo. I’m pissed tho—why me? Why not Google it, ya twat? But then I’m like, whatever, let’s have some fun.

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I love the evenings when the sky glows all neon-ish, and you can see the river cutting through town near Tranquil Court (seriously, name’s on point). I’d be like, “The effin’ cosmos is speakin’ in whispers,” and then all whirlin’ musings pop up; it’s celestial, dude.

Person hurt after Surfside Beach-area crash involving tractor-trailer