Ashley Half Way Tree Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Savanna-la-Mar

So, finding a tart—sorry, “sex worker,” gotta be PC these days, bloody woke nonsense—ain’t like popping to Tesco for a pint of milk. Nah, it’s dodgy, mate. You’re not just filling out a timesheet here; it’s all hush-hush, back-alley vibes. Made me proper angry, though—why’s it so complicated? I just wanna have a butcher’s, not crack the Da Vinci Code! Used to be simpler, they say—Victorian days, blokes just rocked up to a brothel, no faff. Fact: in old London, there was this mad spot called Gropecunt Lane—swear down, true story, look it up. Mental name, right? Straight to the point, no corporate jargon bollocks.

How To Hire A Sex Worker

First off, I hit up the usual spot for breakfast—Miss T’s. You know, the one on the corner of Half-Way-Tree Rd and Eastwood Park Rd? Best ackee and saltfish in town, no cap! I’m munching away, feeling all good, when suddenly, this dude walks in. He’s loud, like, way too loud for 8 AM. Starts talking about how he’s gonna run for some local office. I’m like, “Bro, you can’t even run for the bus!” 😂

Two prisoners at Half-Way Tree lockup die at hospital within days