Hoors? Yeah... Hoors. Prostitutes, Tarts, Hookers, Ladies of Negotiable Affection, call them what you will. For 8 years or so I lived in granite tenement. My Neighbours Were Hoors. Sadly for us all (!?) the brothel was closed down and I moved out of the area. I never did get around to writing about the court case though...

Saturday, September 01, 2007

Cosy Hoors

Yeah, I know - I've been awfy quiet of late!

Of course with the Hoors gone, there's not that much to write about! (Well there is, but I can't. This will all make sense some time in the future.)

Well... tonights post. It is written as I sit here in the freezing chill of a Grey Toon summers evening, huddled round my Bombay Bad Boy (TM). And tonight my thoughts drift towards the poor hard working girls doon at the harbour who only have their skimpy tops and "pelmet for a fanny" skirts for warmth - outfits that make the job of the Grey Toon Hoor just that little bit less cosy of an evening.

And I'm not the only one that feels sorry for them when I drive past on the way home from picking up a pizza... For back in June, the kind hearted Sex Industry Forum announced that one way to spend some of a £200,000 grant intended to "solve the problems of prostitution" would be to give the poor freezing hoors an early Christmas
gift of some nice wooly tights and toastie gloves.

See the full story over at the PeenJ - linky

'Ere Luv! You wouldn't 'ave any wooly tights in there would ya? It's bloody freezin' out 'ere!

I'm sure the punters will greatly appreciate a warm hoor of a cold winters evening.

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