Mari Villeneuve D'ascq Prostitute ❤️

About Montpellier

Now, I ain’t judgin’—*caveat emptor*, buyer beware, right?—but it gets me goat sometimes. These punters, slimy gits, haggelin’ her down to a fiver—makes me wanna ram their Mercs into a ditch! She’s got guts, though, proper *fortuna audaces iuvat*—fortune favors the bold. Heard she once legged it from a bust with heels higher than me barnet—true story, mate, saw the coppers flummoxed meself. Laughed me arse off, I did—happy as a pig in muck.

First off, I head down Rue de la République. You know, the one that’s always buzzing with people? I’m just minding my own business, thinking about my pigs, when I see this dude juggling. Like, seriously? Juggling in the middle of the street? I mean, who does that? But hey, I’m all for entertainment, so I stop to watch. He drops a ball, and it rolls right to my feet. I pick it up, hand it back, and he’s like, “Thanks, mate!” I’m like, “No prob, just don’t drop it again, yeah?”

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