Audrey Islington Whore ❤️

About Glasgow

What gets me happy? The guts, man. Whores got guts—survivin’, hustlin’. Reminds me of Grace sayin’, “I forgive you,” while they’re breakin’ her. Sarcasm’s my jam, tho—imagine me yellin’, “Oh, sure, she’s *just* a whore!” Total bullshit. They’re out there, dodgin’ creeps, makin’ ends meet, and I’m over here, sawin’ at wood like a lunatic.

Description

Behind the house of an Islington family my wife knows is a lane that is used by the prostitutes who work Islington's streets as a toilet.

Finally, the meeting wraps up, and I bolt outta there. I need fresh air. I stroll down to Camden Passage, and it’s buzzing. Vintage shops everywhere! I pop into one and find this ridiculous hat. It’s bright yellow with a giant feather. I put it on, and the shopkeeper laughs. “You look like a right muppet!” I’m like, “Exactly! That’s the point!” I buy it, obviously.

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