Mia Cromwell Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Houston

So, picture this—I’m walkin’ down some grimy street, right, and there’s this whore, bold as brass, leanin’ against a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like she owns the damn night. She’s got that *Fish Tank* vibe—Mia’s “You’re a right wanker, ain’t ya?” attitude—except she’s real, not some screen kid. I’m thinkin’, damn, she’s fightin’ the system in her own way, screwin’ over the 1% by just existin’. Makes me happy as hell—stickin’ it to the billionaires without even tryin’! But then—bam!—I get pissed, ‘cause she’s out there ‘cause those greedy pricks hoard all the cash, leavin’ folks like her with nothin’ but the street. “Billionaires should not exist!” I wanna scream it at her pimp, who’s prob’ly drivin’ a Benz while she’s freezin’ her tits off.

Historical background

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Ahoy there, matey! So ye be askin’ aboot Cromwell (us), eh? Lemme spin ye a yarn like a drunken captain on a rickety deck. Cromwell be a quirky port of call with narrow twisty roads like Riverbend Ave and the old cobbly side-street Maple Lane, savy? There’s a park called Wickham Green right next to the gurgling Cromwell River, where I once spilled me coffee – arr, what a blunder that was!

Interview with Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light’s Mark Rylance