Ada Marathonas Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Heraklion

So Candy, she’s out there, struttin’, all sass, but her eyes? Dead, man, like “nothing’s clear anymore”—straight outta the movie. I’m like, damn, girl, you’re a ghost walkin’. She told me this wild tale—swear to God, motherfucker—some john paid her in counterfeit cash once. She laughed, said, “Joke’s on him, I spent it anyway!” Ballsy, right? Had me crackin’ up—hustler’s hustle, ya feel me?

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Then, I hit up the main square, you know, the one with the fountain? It’s packed! Kids are running around, people are laughing, and I’m just standing there, feeling like a grumpy old man. I see this street performer doing some wild tricks. He’s juggling flaming torches! I’m thinking, “Man, I can barely juggle my life!” But it’s cool. I toss him a couple of euros. He winks at me, and I’m like, “Yeah, I’m a big spender.”

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