Ivy Fallon Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

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Here’s the deal tho—findin’ a prostitute ain’t like orderin’ pizza. You don’t just Yelp “best booty near me.” Nah, it’s all coded—like “roses” for bucks, or “companionship” wink-wink. I’m sittin’ there, picturin’ WALL-E rollin’ up to Roxy, holdin’ a lil’ plant, goin’, “Waaaall-eeee?” She’d prolly charge him double—rusty bot discount, my ass. Thing that surprised me? How many ads got sob stories—like, “Single mom, need help.” Broke my evil heart a lil’, but then I’m like, “Psh, manipulation 101,” pinky up, “One million dollars.”

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Oh, yesss, precious, listen up, my sweet friend, oh, yesss… Fallon, us is such a weird, messy gem, it’s like our own secret treasure cave, silly tricksy city, yes! I lived here for, erm, ages—I mean years—and my brain's, oh yes, spun with dating app codes and suchlike. Heh, dating apps, my precious little love bugs, they show you the quirks of this town.

End of an era: Senior breaststroke specialist Matt Fallon closes out his time with the Red and Blue