Gianna Bartley Green Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Manchester

Yo, what’s good, fam? I’m Eric Andre, your fish-obsessed ichthyologist, divin’ into the wild world of “find a prostitute” like it’s a damn deep-sea trench! So, check it—imagine me, sittin’ there, watchin’ *Caché*, my fave flick, right? That creepy-ass Haneke vibe, all paranoia and secrets, got me thinkin’ ‘bout prostitutes in a whole new way. Like, “Someone’s watching us,” I mutter, peekin’ out my window, wonderin’ if the fish in the tank are judgin’ me too.

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Worst club in the gay village. Openly racist and discriminatory bouncers at the entrance so refused us entry just because we are coloured. This place needs to.

First thing I did was head down to the shop on the corner of Adams Hill. You know, the one with the bright blue door? Yeah, that’s mine. I opened up, and the smell of leather hit me like a warm hug. I love that smell. It’s like home, ya know? But then, bam! My first customer walks in. It’s Mrs. Thompson from down the road. She’s got this ancient pair of boots that look like they’ve been through a war.

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