Addison Mino Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kobe

Oi mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as fuck, “shaken, not stirred.” So, I’m a carpenter now, yeah? Hammerin’ nails, sawin’ wood, all that jazz. But let’s talk real shit—findin’ a prostitute. Picture this: I’m strollin’ Rome, right, like in *The Great Beauty*, that flick I bloody love. “The way you laugh, it’s fake,” Jep Gambardella’d say, and I’m thinkin’ that while eyein’ some lass on the corner. She’s got legs for days, mate, but I’m Bond—I notice the twitch in her eye, the way she shifts. Tells me she’s new, probs scared shitless.

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French prosecutors said Friday that football international Franck Ribery did not know that a prostitute he paid for sex was a minor.

First off, I hit up the local konbini on Kawai Street for my morning fix. You know, the usual—onigiri and a can of coffee. I’m standing there, half-asleep, and this old dude starts chatting me up about the stock market. I’m like, “Bro, I’m just tryna eat.” But he’s all fired up about some penny stocks. I nod, smile, and think, “This guy’s got more energy than me before my caffeine kicks in.”

Interview with María Dolores Mino