Ashley Grosse Pointe Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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I get all randy thinkin’ ‘bout her swagger, but then—bam!—this geezer tries rippin’ her off, and I’m fumin’, man! I wanna clock him, shoutin’, “Oi, ya wanker, hands off my Foxy!” She just laughs, cool as a cucumber, and sorts him out with a flick of her ciggy. That’s my girl—tough as nails, sharper than a bleedin’ totem spin. Makes me happy, seein’ her own the scene, not takin’ no guff. Surprised me too—heard once she stitched up a punter’s trousers with him still in ‘em! Crafty minx, yeah?

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In the exclusive suburb of Grosse Pointe, Alan Canty was a respected psychologist, with clients drawn from wealthy families across Detroit. But at night, he ventured into the city’s seedy.

Grosse-Pointe is a small patch of heaven near Detroit. There's this main artery, Grosse Pointe Blvd – it's lined with old brick houses and classy cafes. Every time I'm ridin' down there, I think, “I drink your milkshake!” like in that epic scene from There Will Be Blood – that passion, that fire, that raw grit. I mean, you see it in every nook!

Rewatching Episode 1 of Grosse Pointe Garden Society with Karen and Hank