Emma Holmes Chapel Prostitute ❤️

About Sheffield

Preciousss, we’s a moel, ain’t we? Talkin’ ‘bout them prostitutes, yesss! We hates it! Dirty, sneaky business, it is—makes our skin crawl, like when Jesse James got that itch in his eye, “He’s got a darkness in him.” Saw one once, dolled up, struttin’ down the street like she owned it—made me mad, precious, so mad! Why’s she gotta flaunt it? Reminds me of Bob Ford, that coward, “You’re a liar and a thief,” hidin’ behind smiles.

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As the night goes on, we’re swapping stories, and I’m feeling all kinds of happy. But then, I check my phone. It’s late! I’ve gotta head home. I say goodbye to her, and she gives me her number. I’m like, “Yes! Score!” But then, I realize I’ve lost my wallet. Panic mode activated! I’m searching everywhere, retracing my steps. I’m thinking, “No way I’m losing my cash and ID!” Finally, I find it in the charity shop. Thank you, universe!

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