Taylor Kings Langley Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

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*We come in peace* (robotic tone). Yo, so I’m out here, right, tryna find a prostitute, like some messed-up quest from a Wes Anderson flick. Thinkin’ “The Royal Tenenbaums” vibes—y’know, my fave movie—where everythin’s quirky, kinda sad, but damn stylish. Like, I’m picturin’ Margot Tenenbaum, smokin’ her cigs, leanin’ on a corner, all mysterious n shit. “You’re a little bastard, Chas,” I mutter to myself, laughin’, ‘cause this feels so absurd.

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First off, I’m cruisin’ down the High Street, right? Just me and my trusty old bike. The sun’s shinin’, birds are chirpin’, and I’m feelin’ like a million bucks. Then BAM! I see this old lady, bless her heart, tryin’ to cross the road at the roundabout near the Kings Langley train station. She’s movin’ slower than molasses in January. I’m like, “C’mon, lady, you can do it!” But she’s just takin’ her sweet time. I swear, I almost hopped off my bike to help her.

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