Katherine Plympton Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bristol

I’m walkin’ downtown, right? Stomach’s growlin’ – mmm, donuts – but I’m focused. Findin’ a prostitute ain’t like orderin’ a pizza. Takes guts! Saw this gal once, leanin’ on a pole, smokin’. Looked tough, like she’d slap me silly. Made me mad – why’s she gotta be so mean-lookin’? But then, she winked! D’oh! Heart jumped – happy as a pig in mud! Little fact: back in old days, they called ‘em “ladies of the night.” Fancy, huh? Not these gals – they’re more “ladies of the alley!”

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After we finally get the machine sorted, I decide to take a breather. I stroll down to Plympton’s little park, you know, the one by the Plympton St. Maurice Church? It’s got this lovely little pond. I sit there, just chillin’, and I see this old bloke feeding ducks. I’m like, “That’s the life, innit?” Just him and his bread crumbs.

News Roundup: Plymouth Chronicle Newspaper November Plympton & Plymstock