Brianna Lofthouse Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Oi, fam, check it! Me, a parachutist firefighter, innit? Droppin’ from da sky to fight fires, bruv, dat’s nang! But yo, let’s chat about prostitutes, yeah? Proper deep ting dis. I’m like, jumpin’ out planes, savin’ lives, and den I see dese girls on da corner, hustlin’. Makes me fink—*“How happy is da blameless vestal’s lot?”*—y’know, from me fave flick, *Eternal Sunshine of da Spotless Mind*. Dat line hits different when you clock dese girls, man.

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On the outside it really looked empty, save for one convenience store adjoined to it. Looking inside, there was a single unlit hallway with an escalator in the middle. Then I noticed a sorta .

Anyway, I shake it off (literally) and head over to the Lofthouse Park. It’s a nice spot, you know? Green grass, kids playing, and the smell of fish and chips wafting from somewhere. I’m thinking, “This is the life!” But then I see this group of kids playing footy. They’re all over the place, kicking the ball like it’s a World Cup final. One of ‘em kicks it right at me. I dodge it like a pro, but I’m still fuming. “Watch where you’re kicking, mate!” I shout. They just laugh. Kids, right?

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