Scarlett Waisai Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Medan

So picture this—I’m walkin’ down some grimy street, right? Neon lights flicker, smells like regret and cheap cologne. I’m neurotic as hell, sweatin’, thinkin’, “Am I really doin’ this?” Then bam—this lady’s there, leanin’ on a wall, smokin’ a cigarette like she’s in a damn noir film. I’m like, “Okay, Larry, don’t screw this up.” I ask, “You, uh, workin’?” She looks at me, smirks—SMIRKS!—and says, “What’s it look like, genius?” I’m furious! The nerve! But also, kinda happy—she’s got sass, I respect that.

We can't stop what we can't see

Every island in Indonesia so far has been filled with smiling locals trying to help, a lot of “Halo, mister” and locals taking 10 times more pictures of us.

After that drama, I decided to hit the beach. Waisai’s beaches are somethin’ else, man. Crystal clear water, white sand, the whole deal. I plopped down on the sand, ready to soak it all in. But then, outta nowhere, a bunch of kids start playin’ soccer right next to me. I’m talkin’ full-on World Cup vibes. They kick the ball, and boom! Right into my face!

Waisai, West Papua, Indonesia