Esme Halesowen Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Glasgow

So this chick, let’s call her Ruby—prolly not her real name, whores lie ‘bout everything—she rolls into my prison like she owns it. Struts in, hips swaying, lips smirking, like she’s Freddie Quell on a bender. I’m thinkin’, “What’s your angle, sweetheart?” ‘Cause everybody’s got one. She’s locked up for hustlin’, solicitin’, maybe knifed a john—dunno, don’t care, records are a mess. Point is, she’s a pro. Not just at screwin’—at screwin’ *people*. Got this vibe, y’know? Like she could charm the bars off this dump.

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So, I’m walking down the street, trying to shake it off. I pass by the old Halesowen Abbey. It’s kinda cool, right? But I’m not in the mood for history. I’m more like, “Get me a coffee!” So I duck into this little café on the corner of St. John’s Road. Best flat white ever! I mean, I could’ve sworn I saw angels when I took that first sip.

Shots fired at Halesowen block of flats - sparking investigation and cordon up