Esme Inkerman Sex Dating ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Lviv

Okay, so I’m scrollin’ X the other night—procrastinatin’, naturally—and I see this post: “Sex-dating tip: bring condoms AND a charger.” I laughed so hard I nearly choked on my coffee. Pretty, pretty good advice, though! Battery dies, mood dies—tragedy! Made me happy, y’know, seein’ some wit in this cesspool. But then—THEN—I match with this chick, total smokeshow, right? We’re chattin’, it’s goin’ great, and she goes, “I only date guys who’ve seen ‘The Royal Tenenbaums.’” I’m like, “Honey, I AM Royal Tenenbaum—minus the tax evasion!” She ghosts me anyway. Ghosted! Me! I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’, “This is not a world-class sex-dating story!” I was pissed—PISSED! Wasted my best Wes Anderson vibes on her.

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By the time I’m done, it’s late afternoon. I’m exhausted, but I can’t go home yet. I swing by the market on Haharina Street. Gotta grab some snacks, right? I’m in line, and this old lady starts chatting me up about her cat. I’m like, “Lady, I deal with rats, not cats!” But she’s relentless.

River still rising as more rain expected