Ivy Ambleve Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Leuven

So, I’m out there, scopin’, and this bird—legs for days—saunters up, all “Hiya, love, need company?” I’m thinkin’, “Bloody hell, she’s bold!”—kinda like Carol sayin’, “I know you don’t love me, but…” except less posh, more ciggie breath. Made me happy, though—straight-up hustle, no faff. But then—fuckin’ hell—some geezer rocks up, all “Oi, that’s my girl!” and I’m like, “Mate, calm your tits, I ain’t stealin’!” Nearly shat meself—angry pimps? No thanks.

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Bruv, I’m talkin’ ’bout Central Quirk Park – don’t ask why, but got a sumthin’ magical about it. Like, ever seen a river spill nappies on da way? Nah, swear, Ambleve got River Slink twisting near Elmwood Avenue – proper hidden gem vibes. Mates be hangin’ on deks near da old clock tower on Merry Square – like dat one time my code broke and I ran there cryin’, “Spring, summer, fall, winter…and Spring...” – sound bad? I felt that deep, it’s like life loop, innit.

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