Camila Inglewood Find A Prostitute ❤️

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Now, *Under the Skin*, that’s me jam, precious. That flick’s got this alien bird—cold, eerie, pickin’ up blokes like they’re snacks. “Do you want to touch me?” she says, all sultry-like, and bam, they’re mush in her void. Findin’ a prostitute? Kinda like that, innit? Lurin’, dangerous, but real empty underneath. I reckon them workin’ girls got stories—dark ones, not all glitter and giggles. Like, did ya know, back in old London, some brothels had secret tunnels? Rich toffs sneakin’ in, dodgin’ the coppers—wild, eh? Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ they’re all “respectable” by day.

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There’s a corner café, Risky's, off Dempsey Street – oh man, their pies are legendary! Yet, mind you, some days I get pissed off at the maddening slow service there – like, seriously! But then I remind myself, "Don’t go breaking my heart." Yeah, that line sticks.

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