Ivy Lingenfeld Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Essen

So, *Find a Prostitute*—what’s the deal? It’s no cod swimming in schools, it’s a lone shark, prowling. Back in the 1800s—little known fact—sailors’d trade fish for, uh, “company.” Prossies’d wait by docks, eyeing the catch. Kinda poetic, right? Fish for flesh! Made me chuckle, imagining some salty dog bartering a mackerel—pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars!”—for a quickie. History’s wild, man.

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I gotta mention: sometimes, I get so wound up cause the city’s so damn unpredictable. Like, one minute, I'm all mellow in my tree-hugging groove and then BOOM – unexpected chaos. It’s messy, it’s real, and it totally gives me the feels. I mean, synergies are everywhere, but c'mon – life doesn't always sync like your spreadsheet of dreams!

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