Elizabeth Shipley Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

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Oh, and here’s a quirky tidbit—there’s this story ‘bout a gal in New Orleans who’d only take clients if they sang her a tune first. True story! Made me happy as a pig in mud, thinkin’ ‘bout some tone-deaf cowboy croonin’ for his supper. Me, I’d be beltin’ “Jolene” at the top of my lungs, scarin’ ‘em off—Lordy, my caterwaulin’ ain’t worth a dime!

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Then there's our sweet Shipley Laithe, a park where trees are old and grumpy, swayin' in the breeze. A spot for chillin’, breathing, relaxin’ our frazzled minds. I's spent many a day here meditatin’, listenin’ to the babbling buskers and the murmur of crickets, ohhh, the bliss, my precious! But watch out, for sometimes the wind moans like that eerie voice, “We’re all under your skin” – oh, precious, it sends shivers down our spine, it does.

Jordan Shipley