Charlotte Dragomer Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Kamnik

Alright, so I’m the prison warden, right? Judge Judy style—sharp, no BS. Prostitutes? Man, they’re a trip! Seen ‘em come through here, heels clickin’, attitudes stinkin’. Don’t pee on my leg and call it rain—those gals got stories deeper than Monty’s dope stash in *25th Hour*. Like, one chick, Candy—real name prolly Susan—rolled in last week. Busted for solicitin’ near the old deli. Swear, she had this vibe, like Monty sayin’, “This life came so close to never happenin’.” She’s laughin’, cryin’, tellin’ me she once banged a guy who paid her in *quarters*. Quarters! Who does that? Freakin’ weirdo johns, man.

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So, I wake up, and it’s raining. Ugh, classic Dragomer. I mean, it’s like the weather’s got a personal vendetta against me. I grab my coffee from that tiny café on Cesta 1. Maj, and the barista, bless her heart, spills half of it. I’m like, “Great, just what I needed.” But hey, I’m not gonna let that ruin my day. I mean, it’s Dragomer, right?

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