Nora Valadares Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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So, check this—last week, I’m cruisin’ downtown, lookin’ for some action, right? Not me personally, just sayin’—hypothetical Bart-style, ha! And there’s this chick, all “your mind is the scene of the crime,” winkin’ at me like she knows my secrets. I’m like, whoa, lady, chill! Made me happy, tho—kinda cool she’s playin’ mysterious. But then, ugh, this greasy dude rolls up, all “pay me first,” and I’m like, eat my shorts, creep! Pissed me off big time—hate middlemen, ya feel me?

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Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still reeling from it. So, I wake up in my little flat on Rua da Liberdade, right? The sun’s blasting through the window like it’s trying to roast me alive. I’m like, “Chill, sun! I’m not ready for this!” But whatever, I roll outta bed, grab a quick coffee, and head out.

Governador Valadares Journal; You Might Say, This Is the Town Uncle Sam Built (Published 1990)