Megan Huntingdon Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Sheffield

So, prostitutes—market’s wild, right? Oldest gig in the book, pre-dates even my Boring Company tunnels. Supply’s elastic—more johns, more pros pop up like NPCs in a glitchy simulation. Demand? Skyrocketin’ when the economy tanks—people need an escape, somethin’ primal. Pissed me off when I read about Amsterdam’s red-light district tax hikes—like, c’mon, let ‘em keep their credits! Made me happy tho, seein’ tech bros buildin’ apps to “disrupt” the hustle—bro, you ain’t Uber for sex, chill.

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After a few pints, I’m feeling brave. I decide to walk back to my flat, but I take a detour through the park. It’s dark now, and I’m hearing all these weird noises. I’m like, “Is that a ghost?” I’m half-joking, but also kinda scared. I’m not ashamed to admit it!

Wrestling and other events at Huntingdon's Commemoration Hall