Anna Glucholazy Prostitute ❤️

About Poznan

Oi, mate, prostitutes, yeah? Bloody hell, what a gig! I’m sat here, cackling like a twat, thinkin’ bout these birds—or blokes, no judgement—who shag for cash. Imagine that life, eh? “The Hurt Locker” vibes—every john’s a bomb waitin’ to blow! “You’re two feet from hell,” I reckon, dodgin’ STDs like fuckin’ landmines. Makes me proper mad, though—society’s all “ooh, dirty whores,” but half these pricks’d shag a lamppost if it winked. Hypocrites, the lot!

You’re Temporarily Blocked

So, I hit the road early, cruisin’ down ul. Główna. The sun was barely up, and I was already feelin’ that good vibe. I mean, who wouldn’t? The air smelled fresh, like fish and freedom. But then, BAM! I hit a pothole. Like, c’mon, Glucholazy, fix your roads! My coffee nearly flew outta my hand.

Bilder vom Hochwasser: Ganze Landstriche gehen unter