Delilah Basford, Stoke On Trent Find A Prostitute ❤️

About London

Oi mate, gather round, listen up! Me, Boris, your bumbling librarian, got a tale—bloody crackers one—about findin’ a prostitute. Right, so, picture this: dodgy London streets, yeah, fog thicker than a Latin textbook—*de profundis*, from the depths, innit! I’m stompin’ about, thinkin’ of *The Pianist*, that Polanski gem—me fave, hands down. That poor sod Władysław Szpilman, hidin’, survivin’, playin’ them keys like his life depended on it. “I’m alive, alive!” he’d whisper—makes me weepy, it does.

Halfway through, his phone rings. It’s his mum. He answers it, and I’m just sitting there, awkwardly sipping my water. I can hear her yelling about his “lack of ambition.” I’m dying inside. Like, c’mon, man, I’m trying to help you here!

Take a step back through the years when Stoke-on-Trent was a 'boogie wonderland'