Ashley Moss Find A Prostitute ❤️

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So, picture this—some chick, let’s call her Ruby, alright? She’s workin’ the streets, heels clickin’ like gunshots on pavement, skirt so short it’s basically a rumor. I’m thinkin’, man, she’s got guts—*guts*, y’know? Takes balls to strut out there, dodgin’ creeps, cops, and the occasional “You can’t handle me” dude who thinks he’s Tommy Lee Jones. “What’s the most you ever lost on a coin toss?”—that’s her life, every damn night, a gamble. And I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ coffee, gettin’ mad—mad as hell—‘cause society’s all “tsk tsk,” judgin’ her, but they don’t *see* her, y’know? They don’t see the hustle.

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After the chaos, I decided to grab some lunch. Hit up this little café on Kirkegata. The food? Amazing! I had this fish dish that was so fresh, it practically swam onto my plate. But then, I spilled my drink all over myself. Like, come on! I’m trying to impress the locals here, and I look like a total mess.

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