Isabelle Frameries Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Charleroi

So, this one time, saw this gal—prostitute, obvi—near my shop. Red heels, fishnets, smokin’ a cig like she owns the damn block. Made me happy, dunno why, maybe ‘cause she’s out there, fearless, while I’m snippin’ bangs all day. But then—bam!—some jerk yells at her, “Slut!” and I’m pissed. Like, dude, mind ya business! She just flips him off, smirks, keeps strutin’. Total badass. Reminds me of that line, “What’s hidden stays hidden,” ‘cept she ain’t hidin’ shit.

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Frameries vibes different here, yo. In the heart of the city, near Place de la Liberté, it's like every brick and alley tells its own crazy story. I hang out at Parc des Rêves on lazy afternoons – grasses, old trees, and that cool river called la Petite rivière de Frameries—gurglin' like it's whisperin' secrets. Life flows slow and yet wild; got me thinkin’ "I’m sorry, Dave, I’m afraid I cannot do that," but, ya know, only in the deep feels moments when it all just clicks.

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