Frolic Street

It's all happening down Frolic Street:
acrobats, clowns, jugglers, actors, puppets, bright lights, balloons, flags and fireworks.
Come on down!
Join the happy and hedonistic hordes, throw back the Stella, sing and laugh,
kiss the girls and make them cry......(for they surely will.)
Savour the moment and the sauvignon blanc, inexpertly blended by Nisa.
The setting sun casts a rosy glow over the red-brick houses, lighting faces all shiny and pink,
igniting flames of drink-fuelled anger and hell-bent fury.
This Carnival of Carnage is just beginning with the first heat of summer.


Sexy ladies in itsy-bitsy pieces of nothing much but flimsy- flamsy- floaty stuff, opulent flesh spilling out of tight lycra scaffolding, flirt drunkenly, overtly, with red-rimmed eyes full of open promise.
Promising everything, nothing witheld, offering their bodies and souls to the gods of
Bargain Booze and the chance of an unemotional coupling.
And maybe the violet-rimmed eyes the next day, suffering the kiss with the fist from
the hero in cap-sleeved Persil-white T-shirt, tattoos lavishly adorning his roid-structured biceps.


Yes.
It's all happening down on Frolic Street:
gossipping, bitching, sniping and hitting, thumping, humping,
whoring and pimping....
Care to join this happy band?

We can arrange it.