Isabelle Dunedin Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Wellington

So, I’m strollin, right? Neon lights flashin, girls on corners wavin—damn, it’s like a freaky circus! Found this one chick, sassy as hell, skirt shorter than my temper. I’m like, “Yo, how’s it hangin?” She smirks, “Better than you, stripes!” Ha! Burned me good—got me laughin, tho. Made me happy, ya know? A lil spark in the grime. But then—bam!—some drunk asshole stumbles over, yellin at her, and I’m pissed. “Who you screamin at, jackass?” I wanna zap him to the Netherworld, but nah, I chill.

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From my limited knowledge (having visited the prostitutes collective while at med school), I think I would recommend a brothel - they're much.

But then, I overhear one of them say they’re dropping out. My heart sinks. I can’t let that happen! I jump in, all passionate, and start talking about the importance of sticking it out. I’m like, “You’ve got this! Don’t let a rough patch get you down!” They look at me like I’m a madman, but I don’t care. I just want to help.

Clarity needed on beds