Emilia Budapest Xvii. Keruelet Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Budapest

Goddamn, it fires me up! The balls on ‘em—hustlin’ while the world’s kickin’ ‘em down! I puff my pipe, thinkin’, “There’s blood in this trade, alright.” Not just the red stuff—sweat, tears, the lot. One time, in my head, I’m yellin’, “We shall never surrender!” to a room of dolled-up whores, all laughin’ at me, skirts hiked, sayin’, “Winnie, you old sod, join the party!” Ha! Imagine me, red-faced, tradin’ war speeches for a tumble—bloody brilliant!

At the pub, it’s packed. I’m talking about the kind of crowd that makes you feel alive. We’re laughing, sharing stories, and I’m feeling all the good vibes. But then, outta nowhere, someone spills a drink all over me. I’m soaked! I’m like, “Great, just what I needed!” But instead of getting mad, I just laugh it off.