Victoria Budapest Xi. Keruelet Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Pecs

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, hate everything, ‘specially this damn topic—findin’ a prostitute. Makes my skin crawl, but here we go. Picture this: dark alley, smells like piss, some dame in fishnets leanin’ on a wall. Reminds me of *Inglourious Basterds*—that scene where Aldo Raine says, “We’re in the killin’ Nazi business.” Except here, it’s me, in the “avoidin’ hookers business.” Hate it. Hate the neon lights flashin’—red, blue, screamin’ sex for sale. Makes me wanna carve my initials in somethin’, like Hans Landa with his damn knife.

Next, I had to meet a potential client at the local market on Fehérvári út. It’s bustling, full of fresh produce and people yelling in Hungarian. I love it! But I’m trying to find this guy, and I can’t remember what he looks like. I’m scanning the crowd like I’m on a treasure hunt. Finally, I spot him. He’s wearing a bright yellow jacket. I mean, come on, dude! Subtlety, please!