Fatima Ossi Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Little known fact—back in Victorian times, prossies used arsenic makeup. Glowed like ghosts, died young—mental, eh? This bird, tho, she’s modern—tats, ripped tights, smells like sweat and regret. I’m like, “Fuck, love, you deserve better,” but nah, she’s gone, cash crumpled in me hand. Pissed me off—world’s a twat sometimes. Why’s she gotta sell her soul? Hawking brain kicks in—entropy, chaos, it’s all physics, innit?

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So, I head to my first appointment. This guy, let’s call him Luca, is a real piece of work. He walks in, looking like he just rolled outta bed. I mean, come on, man! We’re in Ossi, not a zombie movie. He starts talking about his ex, and I’m like, “Dude, get over it!” But he’s all dramatic, saying, “She was my everything!” I’m thinking, “Bro, you’re 25. You’ll find another ‘everything’ in no time.”

A nature photographer captures foxes, otters, and other baby animals in their natural habitats