Katherine Gosforth Prostitute ❤️

About Bristol

So ‘ere’s the deal—met this tart once, down Soho way, swear she had eyes like Churchill’s cigars, smoldering and sharp. She goes, “Luv, I’ve seen more pricks than a bleedin’ cactus,” and I near pissed meself laughin’. Made me happy, that did—her cheek, her spark! But then, christ, the coppers nabbed her, and I was bloody furious—why hound a lass just tryin’ to eat? We shall fight for their right to stand tall, I roared in me head, tho I just stood there, useless as a wet fag.

Step back to the past with us

A former prostitute has spoken against the sex trade, saying she “doesn't understand how anyone could say prostitution isn't dangerous”.

But then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, proper downpour. I’m soaked, and my bacon sarnie’s ruined. I’m standin’ there, drenched, thinkin’, “This is just great.” I dash into a nearby café on the corner of Church Road. It’s cozy, smells like coffee and pastries. I order a hot chocolate, tryin’ to warm up.

Gosforth bar and restaurant in renovated church sold by hospitality group