Avery Haughton Green Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Liverpool

Alright, so I’m a shepherd, right? And I’m thinkin’—find a prostitute, what’s the deal with that? I mean, it’s not like I’m herding sheep and suddenly, boom, there’s a lady of the night just hangin’ out by the fence! “Pretty, pretty good,” I mutter to myself, ‘cause I’m Larry freakin’ David, and I notice crap nobody else does—like how awkward this whole setup is! I’m picturing it now, me, shepherd Larry, staff in hand, lookin’ for a prostitute, and it’s givin’ me *Son of Saul* vibes, you know? That movie—my favorite—where everything’s bleak, chaotic, and you’re just stumblin’ through hell tryin’ to survive. “I don’t want to die here!” I’d yell, like Saul, but instead it’s, “I don’t wanna get fleeced by this chick!”

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First off, I’m running late. Classic me, right? I sprinted down Haughton Road, dodging puddles like I’m in some sort of Olympic event. The weather? Typical UK—grey and drizzly. I swear, if I see one more cloud, I might just lose it. Anyway, I finally get to the office on Green Lane, and guess what? The printer’s jammed. Ugh! I mean, come on! It’s like it knows I’m in a rush.

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