Julia Haninge Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Stockholm

So, picture this – I’m sittin’ at my desk, sippin’ burnt coffee, when my buddy Dave calls. He’s all, “E, I needa find a prozzie, help me out!” I’m like, what?! Made me mad as hell – dude, I sell life insurance, not street maps! But then I laughed, coz it’s Dave, he’s a mess. “No capes!” I yell, coz who needs drama? Prostitutes don’t wear capes neither – too flashy, too dumb.

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Back inside, the rush is still on. I’m pouring coffee like a madman. I swear, I’ve got coffee beans in my hair. I’m a walking espresso machine. And then, my buddy Erik walks in. He’s got this huge grin. “Dude, I just got a new job!” he shouts. I’m like, “Nice! Where?” He says, “At the new gym on Huddingevägen.” I’m like, “Bro, you’re gonna be ripped!”

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