Grace Dartmouth Prostitute ❤️

About Bristol

I’m watchin’ ‘em sometimes, drivin’ by, and it’s like Monty sayin’, “Fuck me? Fuck you!” Dey got dat fire, that… whaddayacallit, self-determi-whateva. Ain’t waitin’ for no prince, no handouts. Dat’s what I respect, y’know? Hustle’s real. But den, gets me sad too — some a dese girls, kids practically, stuck out dere. Breaks ya heart, den ya wanna break some fuckin’ faces.

Show Halifax how much you love it

But if somebody says I chose to become a prostitute that's very difficult to accept or to understand. Why would you choose to be a prostitute? So many times.

Then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, classic British weather, right? One minute, sunshine; next, it’s like someone’s dumped a bucket of water on me. I’m soaked, and my strawberries? Well, they’re now a mushy mess in my bag. Great. Just great. I’m standing there, drenched, thinking, “Why do I even bother?”

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