Katherine Placentia Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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Alright, so I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’—find a prostitute, huh? Pretty, pretty good idea, maybe, but oh boy, here we go. I mean, where do ya even start? Back in the day, you’d flip through some shady phonebook—yeah, those existed! Now it’s all apps, websites, total mess. I’m no Carlos, y’know, slinkin’ through Europe, dodgin’ cops, pickin’ up ladies like it’s nothin’. Me? I’d trip over my own feet tryin’ to look cool. “I’m an international man!”—nah, I’m Larry, sweatin’ through my shirt.

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Our second night we got about an hours slept total due to the very loud gathering in the room next door, which seemed to involve prostitution.

I love walkin' through the narrow alleys near Elm St – so rustic, and every corner makes ya wanna shout out in madness. Makes me think, “I ate his liver with fava beans” – a wild exclamation of life. Sometimes I get emotional 'bout it all, like, seriously, life's too damn short to not appreciate these moody streets and grimy vibes.

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