Victoria Spring Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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Me, I’d rather climb than deal with her nonsense. But – hiss – she’s part o’ the mountain now, like the wind or the scree. “What’s my name?” she’d tease, like in “Holy Motors,” and I’d just growl, “Trouble, that’s what!” Funny, though – she’s got guts, facin’ storms and lonely nights. Respect that, I does, even if she’s a pain in me bony arse. What d’ya reckon, eh? She’s a wild one, prostitute is! Hiss!

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Oh man, lemme tell ya bout Spring (us)! This city? Insane vibes everywhere. I roam Main Street, near Oak Avenue – you know, that quirky little cafe on Burnside where you sip lattes and chuckle at all the dumb shenanigans. Honestly, it's like a stage, I swear! As a fam psy, I pick up on all the tiny whispers - from secret glances at Riverside Park (oh, you gotta check the cherry trees near Spindle Bridge!) to the subtle cues on Elm Street, where families share laughs and tears.

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