Lauren Budapest Xix. Keruelet Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Budapest

Sometimes I wonder, ya know, what she dream bout? Fancy house? Love? Or just peace, like Saul wantin’ rest for his kid? “The rabbi’s gone!” he cries, lost. Whore’s lost too, but she keep goin’. That guts, man, guts! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who care? She’s legend in my book. Tell ya what, next time ya see whore, tip hat, say “Gru salute ya!”—she’ll smirk, guaranteed.

I woke up late, as usual. Alarm? What alarm? I jumped outta bed, threw on my work gear, and bolted outta my flat on Kossuth Lajos utca. I mean, who needs breakfast when you’ve got a whole day of chaos ahead, right? Grabbed a coffee from that little kiosk on the corner. You know the one? The guy there always gives me a discount. I think he feels sorry for me.