Megan Bedworth Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Liverpool

So, I’m down the docks, yeah, salty air hittin me lungs, thinkin – where’s she at? Prossies round here, they’re ghosts, mate. Slip through yer fingers like wet fish. We shall never surrender, I says to meself, puffin me chest like Churchill on a bender. Found one once, right, near the old pier – Ruby, they called her. Cheeky lass, red lips, eyes sharp as a gutting knife. Little known fact – she’d hum sea shanties while workin, swear down! Made me laugh, that did – a prossie with a tune? Fancied meself Theo Faron for a sec, savin the world one shag at a time.

Our service

Then, I hit up the local café on Church Street. Best coffee in Bedworth, hands down. I order my usual – a flat white, extra hot. The barista, bless her, spills half of it. I’m like, “Great, just what I needed.” But she’s super apologetic, gives me a free muffin. Score!

Emergency services rush to Warwickshire house fire