Penelope Zwevezele Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Mons

Anyways, I’m saunterin’ down this alley—smells like piss and regret—and there’s this bird, all dolled up, leanin’ on a wall. I’m thinkin’, “Is she the one?” Kinda like Irene in the movie, y’know, “How do you live a life full of nothing?”—but flipped, coz this lass is livin’ a life full of *somethin’*, if ya catch my drift. I swagger over, all smug, “Greetings, mortal, fancy a trickster’s company?” She laughs—bloody laughs!—and I’m like, “Oi, I’m a god, show some respect!” But nah, she’s chill, says, “50 quid, love, no funny business.” Fair enough, I respect a straight shooter.

Within these walls: inside the legal brothels of Bangladesh

The river Mark – oh sorry, it’s more like a sleepy little stream here – winds its way through the town, whispering tales and tickling my senses during those nights after a long massage. It’s all so surreal sometimes. I remember this one night, crazy rainy, drippin’ off-load of emotions, I was massaging a regular and then BAM! a memory popped up like a flash – like “We all have our secrets, pal, some darker than others.” Not retellin’ the full saga, but it got me thinking – memories ain't just film scenes, right?

Company Develops Technology to Distil Pig Blood into Drinkable Water