Audrey Verkhnodniprovsk Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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But it’s tricky, precious, so tricky! Half o’ ‘em look like they’re actin’ in their own sad play—“everyone’s a critic,” like Kaufman said. I’m thinkin’, shit, am I the audience or the bloody fool here? Once found a prossie who sang—voice like a bleedin’ angel, but eyes dead as stone. Broke me heart, that. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d claw the moon down fer her, I would! Still, most times it’s just hagglin’—ten quid, twenty, whatever scraps I got. “The play’s the thing,” I hiss, cos it’s all a game, innit?

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Man, what a day! I woke up in Verkhnodniprovsk, and I swear, I thought it was just gonna be another chill day. But nah, life had other plans. First off, I hit the streets of Komsomolska, and it was like a scene from a movie. People everywhere, cars honking like they were in a race. I mean, c’mon, it’s not a Formula 1 track, folks!

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