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So, findin’ a prossie—sorry, prostitute—ain’t like orderin’ a curry off Deliveroo. Nah, it’s murky, bit thrilling, bit grim. Back in the day, like, Victorian times, they had these “lists”—proper secret guides, mind! Blokes would pass ‘em round, scribbled with names, spots, even prices. Little known fact, that—makes you wonder what old Disraeli got up to, eh? Got me chuffed to bits, imaginin’ some toff with a monocle, sneakin’ about.

Prostitute jailed for six months after burgling client's home in Cirencester when he was out

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After that, I finally made it to The Crown. It’s my fave pub, always got good vibes. I ordered a pint of cider and plopped down with Sam. We started talkin’ about music, life, and all that jazz. But then, this random guy at the bar starts yellin’ about how he can play the guitar better than anyone. I was like, “Dude, chill.” But he kept goin’ on and on. I was ready to throw my drink at him.

Cricket club in Cirencester devastated by vandal attacks