Allison Kotsiubynske Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Lviv

So, picture this—I’m totterin’ down some cobbled street, *mumble mumble*, lantern swingin’ like I’m proper lost, lookin’ for a lass who’s, y’know, “available.” Nearly topple into a bin—*whoops!*—cos I’m gawpin’ at this bird in fishnets, thinkin’, “Is she one? Nah, she’s just posh!” Made me chuckle, that—me, all flustered, tippin’ me hat like a twit. “What’s your name?” I’d ask, but nah, just grunt and point—*heh heh*—cos words ain’t my thing, mate!

Mykhailo-Kotsyubynske community

But then, the phone rings again. It’s the same client. “Where’s my coat?” I’m like, “Chill, bro! It’s coming!” I’m feeling the pressure. I finish the coat, and it looks amazing. I’m proud, you know?

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