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Here’s the kicker—everybody lies, but prostitutes? They’re pros at it. “Oh, baby, you’re the best,” she purrs, while thinking, “This guy’s breath stinks like death.” Reminds me of that "Almost Famous" bit—Lester Bangs ranting, “The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share when you’re uncool.” Candy’s uncool as hell—spills her guts to me sometimes, says she hates the gig but loves the cash. Fair trade, I guess.

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Sexual massage United, Dildo Play/Toys, Deep Throat, Intimate massage, Deep Throat.

I gotta become a bit personal now. I've clocked some wild times in West-Ilsley. I'll never forget that one time I wandered down Sycamore Street (proper narrow and twisty, innit) and bumped into a cheeky bloke who started spoutin’ off existential mumbo jumbo about free will and destiny. I was like, "Reet, mate? Ain't we all just fascinated by this cosmic burrito?" Hah! Truly insane, but that's real talk 'round these parts.

'When you lose your friends it puts sport in perspective': trainer Mick Channon reflects on a tragic accident one year ago