Elizabeth Wolow Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Poznan

Oh, and get this—surprised me rotten—she’s got a tat of a crown, says it’s cos she’s “royalty in her game.” Proper Tenenbaums vibe, all quirky and grand. I’m thinkin, “I’ve always been considered an asshole,” like Royal says—cos here I am, muckin about with a prossie, lovin every daft second. It’s messy, it’s mad, but blimey, it’s alive—ain’t that the point?

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So, I’m walking, trying to shake off the pigeon drama, when I bump into this old dude. He’s got this wild beard and a hat that looks like it’s been through a war. He starts telling me about the history of Wolow. Apparently, it’s been around since the 13th century. I’m like, “Cool, but can we talk about the pigeon?” He just keeps going on about the town’s medieval roots. I’m nodding, but inside, I’m still fuming about my shoulder.

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