Addison Arai Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kawasaki

So check this—findin’ a prostitute ain’t no cakewalk, ya dumbasses. I’m scrollin’ X, tryna peep profiles, see who’s out there slingin’ ass. Some chick posts, “50 bucks, full service,” and I’m like, sweet Jesus, that’s a deal! But then—bam!—her pic’s blurry, prolly a catfish, and I’m pissed! “Respect my authoritah!” I yell at the screen, ‘cause I ain’t wastin’ my cash on some fake-ass hoe. Fun fact, tho—back in the 1800s, prostitutes in Paris had these secret codes, like wearin’ red ribbons meant they was “open for biz.” Ain’t that some wild shit?

So you want to book a sex worker?

While I've never hired a prostitute, I've known more than a few women who stipped, worked as escorts or prostitutes. I've met some women with some pretty outside the bellcurve paraphilas .

But then, outta nowhere, the sky goes dark. I’m like, “No way, not now!” A storm rolls in, and I’m scrambling to pack up my stuff. Rain starts pouring, and I’m soaked. I’m standing there, drenched, and I can’t help but laugh. Like, this is my life, right? Promoting in a downpour. Classic.

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