Harper Beverst Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Ghent

Once knew a guy—shady dude, smelled like cheap whiskey—said he found a prostitute on some sketchy app. X posts floatin’ round ‘bout it too, links to sites I ain’t touchin’. “Be careful,” I told him, “this ain’t a damn game!” He laughed, said, “Bernie, chill, it’s just business.” Business my ass! Made me wanna scream—where’s the humanity? But, gotta admit, I was curious—how’s it work? Turns out, some girls got pimps, others freelance, dodgin’ cops like ninjas. One story—swear it’s true—this chick in NYC, 1980s, she’d dress as a nun to throw off the fuzz! Hilarious, but damn clever!

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Oh, and the smells – the aroma of fresh bread bubblin’ from Boulangerie du Bonheur hits you real hard on a quiet morn. It’s like a siren call to your belly. And the sounds – the lilting tunes from a street musician at Quai des Âmes, it’s pure magic! Got me feelin' jazzed like a captain findin' a hidden treasure chest.

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