Jasmine Morag Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Warsaw

Hey, folks, listen up—here’s the deal. I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’ ‘bout findin’ a prostitute, y’know, like in “Lost in Translation.” That movie—man, it gets me. Bob Harris, he’s all lost, driftin’ in Tokyo, and I’m like, “C’mon, man, I feel ya.” So, picture this—me, ol’ Joe, walkin’ down some neon-lit street, lookin’ for a gal, but not just any gal, right? I ain’t talkin’ fancy schmancy escorts—nah, I mean real, gritty, street-level stuff.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

When Jon asks if they want to remain at Craster's Keep, Morag spits and demands the place to be burned. Morag and the rest choose to find their own way.

So, I finish up with Mr. Lion Hair, and he leaves lookin’ fresh. But then, the next guy comes in. This dude’s got a beard that could house a family of squirrels. I’m not even kidding. I’m tryin’ to trim it, and he’s just sittin’ there, munchin’ on a sandwich. Like, really? You’re gonna eat while I’m wielding scissors? I’m half-expecting a squirrel to pop out and ask for a bite.

Morag Myerscough in Coachella