Cora Auburn Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About New York City

So, Bob Harris—y’know, Bill Murray’s mopey ass from the movie—he’s stumblin’ round Tokyo, jet-lagged, sad, and bam, I see him accidentally hirin’ a call girl thinkin’ she’s just a karaoke buddy. “This is not karaoke!” I’d yell, snortin’ into my latte. Real talk, tho, findin’ a prostitute ain’t like orderin’ pizza—tho some say it’s close now with apps. Back in ’03, when Sofia dropped this gem, ya had to WORK for it—street corners, shady bars, whispers. Now? X posts got ads like, “Lonely? DM me, $200/hr.” Wild, right?

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I told my father I am not interested in dating, but he and his boss keep telling me about single Romanian men in their 30s, and Dad wants me to.

I got a favorite little hole-in-the-wall on High St. It’s got old vinyl records, vintage posters – truly bizarre art, reminds me of that Dogville vibe, like narratin' a tale of lost dreams and hidden wonders. I swear, random conversations with locals get spiced up with slang and sometimes pure mumbled incoherence – boom, there goes another epic moment!

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