Lily King's Cross Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Leicester

I’m ramblin’, but yo, prostitutes are tough, like amino acids holdin’ proteins together. They bend, don’t break. Kinda admire that, ya know? “The world’s gone mad,” movie says—damn straight, and they’re just surfin’ the madness. Anyway, gotta jet—eat my shorts, losers! Peace out!

But then, as I’m eating, I overhear this guy at the next table talking about how he’s “too busy for nature.” I’m like, “Bro, you’re missing out!” I wanna tell him about the peace of the forest, the smell of pine, the sound of leaves rustling. But I just nod and keep eating.

‘A taste of Ibiza in grotty King’s Cross’: memories of closed UK nightclubs