Gabriella Chita Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kobe

So I’m skulkin’ about, right, tryna find a tart—ain’t as easy as you’d think! Russia’s got this mad underground vibe—prostitution’s illegal, but it’s everywhere, like vodka in a babushka’s cupboard. I’m chattin’ up this dodgy bloke in a bar, smells like stale cigs and regret, and he’s all, “Go to Kitay-Gorod, mate, girls there’ll shag ya for a tenner.” A tenner! I’m cacklin’—what a bargain, eh? Made me happy as a pig in shite, coz I love a good deal. But then I’m thinkin’, *Spotlight* style, “How do you ignore this?”—coz these lasses ain’t exactly livin’ the dream, are they? Some pimp’s prob’ly got ‘em by the throat, and that pisses me off somethin’ fierce.

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So, I’m cruisin’ down the streets, and I hit up the local market. Man, the smells! Fresh produce, fish, and some kinda street food that looked suspicious but smelled divine. I grab a skewer of something—could’ve been chicken, could’ve been mystery meat. Who knows? But it was delish!

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