Mari Sefton Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Logan City

So, anyway—me, Gollum, I’m sneaky, seein’ what normies miss. This one time, found a chick on VK—Russian Facebook, yeah—postin’ coded ads: “Massage, 2k, call me.” Massage my arse! Hiss! Rang her up, met in some dingy flat—smelled like borscht and regret. She was quick, tho—no chit-chat, just biz. “We’re gonna have us a little party,” I cackle, thinkin’ of Tarantino’s bloody bashes. Paid her, done, out—felt like a spy, precious! Exaggeratin’? Maybe—but it’s Russia, everythin’s a damn drama.

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View of Mount Sefton from the Hooker Valley track. My first painting of New Zealand but definitely won't be the last. Framed by @matisseframing in Brisbane.

Man, I remember once a hot day when a client nearly melted in front of the spa door. I'm like, "pinky-to-mouth, one million dollars is not enough for this nonsense!" Crazy, right? Later on I chilled at the rustic little cafe off Maple Street – so secret, it's almost myth. I've seen folks laughing, arguing, crying. It's a rollercoaster.

Live From the 37th America’s Cup: Director of Production Leon Sefton on the Responsibility for Innovation