Elizabeth Crestmead Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Canberra

So, I’m strollin’, right, lookin’ for a bird who’s up for it. Little-known fact: back in the ‘60s, MI6 agents like me—yeah, real suave bastards—used prossies to snag secrets from horny diplomats. True story! This one time, I spot her—legs for days, skirt so short it’s basically a belt. “Shaken, not stirred,” I mutter, sidlin’ up. She’s all, “Wotcha want, love?” I’m thinkin’, *Christ, she’s fit*, but I play it cool—can’t let her know I’m half-mad with lust.

403 - Permission Denied

I get super excited just thinkin about the local scenes; some days I run down to Crestmead Lane, forgetting my phone, bumping into old flames and new crushes on the way – idk, it's like every corner holds this mysterious promise, ya know? And sometimes, I get so into it that I accidentally spill my coffee (ugh, clumsy me – soz, 16 typos literally: crestmdae, quik, lovlyy, flas, bon, arang, verry, soaming, fleck, littel, undr, vibee, curt, romt, glimpes, and zany)!

Shootings, Crestmead and Eagleby