Anastasia Hartley Find A Prostitute ❤️

About London

Oi mate, me, a parachutist firefighter, yeah? Droppin’ from the sky, whoosh, savin’ forests, all that jazz. But lemme tell ya bout somethin’ wild—findin’ a prostitute, right? Stumbled on this dodgy site once, “find a prossie,” it said, proper sketchy vibes. Me, Mr. Bean, all clumsy-like, clickin’ links, oops, nearly fell off me chair! *mimes wobblin’, arms flailin’* Thought, “Blimey, this ain’t like Carol, is it?” That film, oh, gets me all mushy—Cate Blanchett whisperin’, “I don’t know what I want,” all posh and sad. Meanwhile, I’m here, scrollin’, thinkin’, “What *do* I want, eh?”

About Goodreads Q&A

Dylan Hartley has not always enjoyed facing the press – all too often it has been facing the music for England hooker.

We decided to hit the pub on the corner of West Street. The one with the dodgy karaoke nights. I thought, “Why not?” We grabbed a pint, and I was feeling good. But then, the karaoke started. Oh man, it was brutal. This one guy was belting out “Wonderwall” like he was auditioning for X Factor. I nearly spilled my drink laughing.

David Hartley (1938 – 2024)