Layla Verduron Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Nantes

Here’s a wild one—back in ‘82, heard this story. Prostitute in Philly, right? Swore she saw Elvis—*Elvis*! Post-‘77, still kickin’. Said he tipped her in gold rings. Laughed my ass off—c’mon, Elvis, really? But she believed it, swear to God. Made me happy—hope’s nuts, ain’t it?

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First off, I hit the streets of Verduron, right? Strolled down Rue de la République, feelin’ all fancy. The sun was shinin’, and I was ready to grab a croissant. But guess what? The bakery on the corner was outta ‘em! Can you believe that? I mean, who runs outta croissants in the morning? I was like, “C’mon, people! This is France!”

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