Hazel Cleethorpes Find A Prostitute ❤️

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Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, hate everything, ‘specially this damn topic—findin’ a prostitute. Makes my skin crawl, but here we go. Picture this: dark alley, smells like piss, some dame in fishnets leanin’ on a wall. Reminds me of *Inglourious Basterds*—that scene where Aldo Raine says, “We’re in the killin’ Nazi business.” Except here, it’s me, in the “avoidin’ hookers business.” Hate it. Hate the neon lights flashin’—red, blue, screamin’ sex for sale. Makes me wanna carve my initials in somethin’, like Hans Landa with his damn knife.

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So, I’m standing there, watching the chaos unfold, when I bump into an old mate from school. We start chatting, reminiscing about the good ol’ days. He’s now a lifeguard at Cleethorpes beach. I’m like, “Dude, you’ve got the best job ever!” He laughs and says, “Yeah, but it’s not all sun and fun.” I get it.

Changes to dog walking to come into force on Cleethorpes beach