Savannah Quartu Sant Elena Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Florence

She weren’t no cliché, tho – no fishnets or fake lashes. Wore this ratty jumper, looked knackered. Little fact fer ya: some o’ ‘em, back in old London, paid taxes! Bloody taxman didn’t care where coin came from – “We all gotta eat!” Made me chuckle, thinkin’ o’ me, hunched over ledgers, while she’s dodgin’ coppers. Stupid, fat hobbit! Missin’ the real story. She told me once – yeah, I chatted her up, curious git – said she’d been a nurse! Lost her job, NHS cuts, boom, pavement life. Gutted me, that did. “What’s your core competency?” – I’d ask, like Toni’s dad, takin’ the piss.

Quartu, gestiva un giro di squilloUn 56enne finisce in manette

Suddenly, I hear this amazing guitar riff. I follow the sound down Via San Benedetto. There’s this street performer, just killing it. I stop, mesmerized. He’s got this crowd, and I’m like, “Dude, you’re better than half the pros I know!” I throw him a couple of euros. He winks. I’m smiling now.

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