Brooklyn Tullins Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Nice

Now, imagine—this chick quotin lines, “In the name of the concierge!”—straight outta Grand Budapest, mixin biz with flair. Cracked me up, it did—humor in the hustle! Tho, gotta say, dodgy streets ain’t my jam—rather sip tea at the hotel, ya feel? Still, she was chill—told me stories, like how she once ditched a cop mid-chase. “Feet, my power is,” i joked, wavin my stubby legs.

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After stuffing my face, I head back to the office. But wait! I trip on a cobblestone on Rue de la République. Classic Tullins, right? I’m sprawled out, papers flying everywhere. I’m like, “Not again!”

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