Claire Cushing Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Phoenix

I spot her, thou see—red lips like a gash’d rose, legs long as a tax form. “What price thy company, wench?” I blurt, all Shakespearean, thinkin’ I’m clever. She laughs—bloody hell, mate, she laughs! “Twenty quid, ya posh twat,” she says, and I’m proper gobsmacked. Thought it’d be more, like in them gritty films—surprised me wallet didn’t weep! “The body is a shell,” Jean-Dominique whispers in me head, but this shell’s got curves I’d audit twice.

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The Park Theater was going to produce Oliver Twist and there is a part of a prostitute in the play Nancy Sykes.

The vibe here is all over the place, sometimes beautiful, sometimes maddening. Like, I got pretty pissed last week when construction blocked my view from the spa window, and man, that irked me to no end – all those shiny new blocks ruining the skyline, breakin' the old charm. Ugh, but then a little kid laughed right outside my door and it all melted away. Crazy, innit?

NSAA to Honor Chris Cushing, Chip Perfect