Rose Budapest Xiii. Keruelet Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Pecs

I’ve seen ‘em, struttin’ down dark streets, heels clickin’ like a damn metronome. Makes me happy, y’know? The hustle! The grit! Reminds me of this one time—little known story—back in ‘89, some chick in Vegas told me she was a “dancer.” Dancer, my ass! She was workin’ the Strip harder than a blackjack dealer. Had a laugh over that—sneaky broad. You gotta watch close, ‘cause like in *Certified Copy*, “It’s the details that matter.” One wrong move, and bam, yer wallet’s gone, or worse—cops!

Started off at the shop on Váci út. You know, that busy street where all the cars zoom by like they’re in a race? I’m just chillin’, sippin’ my coffee, when this dude rolls in with a car that looks like it’s been through a war. I mean, c’mon, bro, did you drive it through the Danube?