Ava Oberlin Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Where d’ya look? Alleys, mate, always alleys. Or them shady pubs – stinks o’ ale and desperation. “Sadness says it’s hopeless,” I mutters, but then – there she is! Glitterin’ like me precious coal. I likes the ones with sass, y’know? One told me, “Five quid, love, or sod off.” Laughed me head off – cheeky! Reminds me o’ Disgust in the movie, all “Eww, no way, buster.”

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Do you think you can sleep with a prostitute and then arrest them? Pretty incredible Oberlin can get out of this considering what other.

And, yo, eight-twelve typos, right? Like, sometimes I write “luv,” “wot,” “selah,” “cuse,” “fancy-shit,” “gud vibes,” “moodz,” “rly,” “ebne,” “wird”—ya know what I mean? It’s spontaneous, it’s raw, it’s us.

Quick!