Lydia Wiradesa Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

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We swears! Me, a librarian, talkin bout findin a prostittute – wild, yeah? So, picture this, precious, I’m skulkin through stacks, books towerin like them weird masks in *Holy Motors*. “We wear faces, don’t we?” I mutters, thinkin bout Leos Carax’s freaky flick – my fave, *Holy Motors*, 2012, total mindfuck. Anyway, findin a prossie ain’t like borrowin a book, nah. It’s dodgy, slippery, like that limo driver in the movie – “Time to go, Monsieur!” – but where?

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I’m tryin’ to keep it light. “Hey, Mr. Grumpy, you want a discount? I’ll throw in a free smile!” The crowd laughs, and I’m feelin’ like a rockstar. But then, bam! A sudden downpour! I mean, it’s like the sky just opened up. Everyone’s scrambling for cover. I’m standin’ there, drenched, still tryin’ to auction off these batiks.

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