Isabella Prien Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

So, find a prostitute—sounds easy, right? Nah, bruv, it’s a bloody mission. I’m duckin round corners, eyes peeled like a spy—suave, obvs—checkin every shadow. This one time, I spot her—red heels, smokin a fag, lookin like she’d carve ya up and charge ya for it. “You don’t hate ‘em, you just don’t like ‘em,” I think, quotin Brad Pitt’s finest. Made me chuckle—lass had sass, y’know? I’m all charm, “Fancy a martini, love? Shaken, not stirred.” She rolls her eyes—fair, I’d roll ‘em too.

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I’m not sharin’ this for glory; it's just how life comes at you. Some days, ya feel on top of the world, and others? You’re wishin’ you could CTRL+Z your mistakes. I once got mad as hell at a broken bench in Central Plaza (yeah, that one where couples whisper sweet nothings) – can ya imagine? But then, right after, a stray dog came by waggin’ its tail, and I thought, “Look, guys, it's all gonna be alright.”

Part of Prien Lake Park to close for repairs