Elizabeth Bierun Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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Found this one gal—*mimes tippin’ hat*—all red lipstick, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Got any dough?” she says, smirkin’. I’m like—*mumbles, pats pockets*—“Only bread dough!” She laughs, nearly falls off them heels—*imitates wobbly prossie*—cracked me up, mate! Felt all happy, like when I nail a sourdough. But then—*frowns, kicks air*—some drunk git yells at her, “You’re filth!” Made me mad—*grrr, shakes fist*—who’s he to judge? Ain’t his coffee plantation burnin’ down, like in *White Material*. “Everything’s falling apart!” Isabelle’d say—prossie’s life too, innit?

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By the time I get home, I’m exhausted but happy. I plop down on the couch, and I’m just thinking about the day. It was a rollercoaster, for sure. But that’s life in Bierun, right? Full of surprises, laughter, and a bit of chaos.

Archaeologists discover WWII plane wreck and human remains in Poland