Avery Falkirk Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About London

This one tart, Sally, she’s a regular—swear she’s got a laugh like a hyena, makes me wanna claw me ears off! But she’s clever, yeh, tricksy—once saw her nick a bloke’s wallet mid-giggle. Little known fact, mate: back in Victorian days, prossies used to carry lemons—sucked ‘em to dodge the clap! Ain’t that mad? Sally probs don’t know that, she’s too busy dodgin’ coppers.

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A FATHER-of-two murdered a ­prostitute in his home then raped two call girls in front of her corpse while his young son slept nearby.

So, I stroll down to the Falkirk Wheel. If you haven’t seen it, you’re missing out! It’s this massive boat lift thingy. I mean, who even thought of that? Genius! I’m snapping pics, feeling like a tourist in my own city. Then, outta nowhere, this kid runs into me. Like, full-on shoulder check. I spill my coffee all over my new shirt. Ugh! I’m fuming. I mean, come on, kid! Watch where you’re going!

Looking back with Ian Scott: Walking the historic route of Falkirk's electric trams (part three)