Nova Santo Andre Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Queluz

We hates it, though—the fakeness! “I love you, baby,” she purrs—lies! Like Zodiac’s taunts, playin’ games. I’m no fool, nope! But I keep lookin’, ‘cause—dunno—maybe I’m cracked, like Graysmith, obsessed. Last one, she had a scar—neck, ugly, jagged. “Who did that?” I asks. She shrugs, “Some john.” Creepy, right? Coulda been him—Zodiac! Ha! Me imagination’s wild, precious—too many movies. Still, findin’ a prostitute’s a hunt—dangerous, messy, fun. We hates it, we loves it—can’t stop! “This is the Barber, signing off!”—nah, too cool. Just—watch yer back, mate!

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Then, outta nowhere, this kid runs up to me. He’s like, “Can I pet one?” I’m like, “Sure, but don’t pull its tail!” Kids, man. They never listen. Next thing I know, the sheep’s running off, and I’m chasing it down Rua das Flores. I’m yelling, “Come back, you fluffy little rascal!”

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