Freya Vignola Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Genoa

Oi mate, right, so I’m a psychologist now, yeah? Brilliant, let’s dive into this cesspool—finding a prossie! Ha! What a gig, innit? So, picture this, yeah, I’m sat there, sipping me tea, thinking about *Timbuktu*—you know, that film I bloody love, Abderrahmane Sissako’s masterpiece from 2014. Bleak, beautiful, sand everywhere, proper poetic shit. And I’m like, how the fuck does a bloke even find a prostitute round ‘ere? Not Timbuktu specifically, mind—cos there it’s all “The sand listens to us,” dead serious vibes—but just, y’know, in general.

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I order a cappuccino, and it’s the best I’ve ever had. Seriously, I’m not even exaggerating. It’s like a warm hug in a cup. I sit down, and I’m just enjoying the moment. The rain’s pounding outside, and I’m thinking, “Maybe this day ain’t so bad after all.”

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