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About Philadelphia

She’s decent, though—cracked a laugh when I said, “Don’t fuck me over, darlin’.” Room’s a shithole—stinks of fags and desperation. Bed creaks like a dyin’ whale—nearly broke me back! But she’s quick—knows her game. “You’re not filming this, are ya?” she snaps. I’m like, “Fuck no, I ain’t Haneke!” Laughed me tits off—proper cheeky mare.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

I write creative content & copy to win fans for brands. · N2O · American Academy of Dramatic Arts · Maidenhead · + connections on LinkedIn.

I quit bein’ all buttoned-up and let my inner wild child speak. Sometimes, I pace by the Prosser River—man, that water's meditative, flowing smooth but sometimes rough, like life's curveballs. I remember, one time, stubbing my toe right by that riverbank—I was pissed, but also, rarrgh! There’s magic in that pain, right? Haha, so typical me.

Obituary information for Gary Douglas Prosser