Elise Tiszafuered Find A Prostitute ❤️

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I’d saunter up, all awkward, like, “Hey, uh, you workin’?” She’d laugh—*laugh*!—right in my face. “What’s a preacher want with me?” she’d say, and I’d be pissed, like, “Don’t stereotype me, lady!” But also kinda happy ‘cause she’s sharp—sharper than me, probs. Fun fact: back in the 1800s, some prostitutes were called “soiled doves”—ain’t that poetic? She’s a dove, I’m a dork, perfect match.

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Then, I get this customer, right? A dude named Gábor. He’s got this ancient knife, probably from the Stone Age or somethin’. He’s all, “Can you make it sharp enough to cut through a rock?” I’m like, “Dude, I’m a sharpener, not a magician!” But I take it on, ‘cause hey, it’s Tiszafüred, and we love a challenge.

Fig. 0-4. Human-bird [hybrid] askos from the Middle Bronze Age cemetery...