Emilia Budapest Xvii. Keruelet Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Szekesfehervar

Oi mate, gather round, lemme ramble! Findin’ a prostitute, eh? Tricky business, innit? Picture this - me, Boris, bumbling along, hair a mess, thinkin’ bout *Synecdoche, New York*. That film, blimey, Kaufman’s a genius! Life’s a stage, all that jazz - “The end is built into the beginning,” he says. So, prostitutes, right? Been around forever, haven’t they? Oldest job goin’, *sine qua non* of dodgy streets. Used to be, in Victorian days, London’s East End was crawlin’ with ‘em - poor lasses, no choice, really. Made me bloody angry, that did - still does! Society, pah, what a shambles.

Then, I head over to the bakery on Kerepesi út. You know the one with the amazing pastries? I’m thinking, “I’ll just grab a little something.” But then I see the strudel. Oh man, the strudel! I can’t resist. I buy one, and it’s like a flavor explosion in my mouth. I’m in heaven, but my wallet’s crying.