Emily Tullins Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Marseille

I sidle up to her, all cool, “Fancy a martini, love?” She laughs, says, “In here? You’re mad.” I’m lovin it—her sass, her vibe. Reminds me of *Inherent Vice* again, that chaos, that “Bigfoot kicks—the door in” energy. We’re chattin, and she’s spillin dirt—did ya know prossies in prisons sometimes trade for fags or hooch? Wild shit. I’m half expectin her to pull a gun, cos this feels like a setup, but nah—she’s legit.

References:

Finally, I get back to my desk, papers intact (mostly). My boss is still grumpy, but I’m like, “Whatever, man.” I finish my work, and it’s finally quitting time.

The Blues put up a hell of a fight against The Army at UKAF Boxing Championships