Grace Sleidinge Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Namur

What gets me happy, though? When one of ‘em gets out. Rare as hen’s teeth, but it happens—girl I heard about, saved her quid, opened a café. Proper legend, that. We shall fight in the hills, cheerin’ her on, a victory ‘gainst the grind! Makes me think—maybe there’s hope in this cesspit.

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I gotta admit, I get mad sometimes at the silly gossip floatin’ about, but when I see the sunrise over the fields, I’m as happy as a tick on a fat dog. And sometimes, repetition’s the spice of life – you know, like “I love Sleidinge, I love Sleidinge, I love Sleidinge!” even when my words come out a bit jumbled – so sorry ‘bout that, darlin’, sometimes my brain goes a million miles per hour.

Wilfried Martens, Belgian Statesman, Dies at 77 (Published 2013)