Lydia Dinas Powys Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Liverpool

Ruh-roh! I spot one – she’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig, lookin’ like she don’t give a crap. “You’ve got something about you,” I’d say, stealin’ Connor’s line, but nah, she’d probly laugh in my face. I’m thinkin’, shit, this is wild – my tail’s waggin’, I’m hyped! Never thought I’d be this close to the action. Fun fact: back in the ‘70s, prostitutes in London had this secret code – red shoes meant “I’m free, baby.” Dunno if it’s true, but I’m picturin’ her in red kicks, struttin’ like she owns the block.

Sex-worker advert

So, I’m rollin’ outta bed, right? The sun’s peeking through my window on Cardiff Road. I’m like, “Sweet, let’s grab some brekkie.” I hit up this cute café on the corner of The Green. You know the one? The one with the weirdly named pastries? I ordered a “Dinas Delight” or whatever. It was just a scone, but hey, I’m not judging.

Dinas Powys mum's plea for blood donors after son saved