Allison Craigavon Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Newcastle

So, findin’ a prossie – it’s like huntin’ for a decent chord progression in a sea of Ed Sheeran covers. Ya gotta know the spots, right? Them dark corners, neon flickerin’ like a dodgy amp. I reckon it’s all a bit sad, tho – blokes so desperate they’re payin’ for a shag. “You’re not even good at being pathetic!” I’d yell, laughin’ me arse off. Reminds me of that *Toni Erdmann* bit – “Life’s just a big, weird party!” – ‘cept this party’s got STDs and regret.

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So, I’m rollin’ outta bed, and I’m already late. Classic me. I grab my sketchbook and head out. I live near the Brownlow area, and lemme tell ya, the streets were buzzin’. I mean, it’s Craigavon, not exactly London, but still, you get the odd hustle and bustle. I’m walkin’ down the Lurgan Road, and I see this guy tryin’ to parallel park. He’s like, “I got this!” But nah, mate, he didn’t. He ended up bumpin’ into a lamppost. I couldn’t help but laugh. Like, c’mon, it’s a lamppost, not a Ferrari!

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