Skylar Apeldoorn Prostitute ❤️

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Precious, we’s a machine milkin operator, see? Prostitute, eh? We hates it! Nasty, filthy business, it is! Makes me skin crawl, like when them cows kick the bucket mid-milkin. Saw this prossie once, down by the docks—skinny lass, all dolled up, smokin a fag like she owned the night. Reminds me o’ that flick, *Talk to Her*—y’know, Pedro’s masterpiece, 2002? “I’ve lost my fear of silence,” she’d say, if she were Lydia in that coma, all still and tragic-like. But this tart? No silence for her—just blokes, booze, an’ a quick fumble.

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Then, I see this sign for a new Kvas tasting event. My heart skips a beat! I rush over, thinking, “Finally, something for me!” But when I get there, it’s a total letdown. They’re serving this weird flavored Kvas. Like, beetroot? Who drinks beetroot Kvas? I’m standing there, trying to be polite, but inside I’m dying. I mean, come on, Apeldoorn, you can do better!

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