Samantha Yorii Find A Prostitute ❤️

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Precious, listen up, we’s talkin’ prostitutes! Me, Gollum, loves “Amour,” that fancy flick—old love, death, real messy stuff. So, findin’ a prostitute? We hates it! Sneaky streets, nasty smells—ugh, like rotten fish! Ya stumble round, lookin’ fer someone who don’t care, just wants yer gold. Reminds me of “Amour”—“I can’t take it anymore,” she says, all weak. Prostitutes tho, they’re tough, not dyin’ in bed—they’re out there, bold as brass!

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Finally, the train rolls in, and I squeeze in. It’s packed, like sardines in a can. I’m squished between a guy who smells like he just ran a marathon and a lady who’s blasting her music. I mean, come on! Can’t a guy catch a break?

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