Anastasia Biot Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Paris

Oh, and get this—total shocker: some gals use burner phones with apps! High-tech hookin’, man! I’m thinkin’, “What’s next, Venmo for a quickie?” That’s what she said! Haha, I’m dyin’! But yeah, it’s all chill—she’s cool, I’m cool, we vibe. “I’m lost in your eyes,” I blurt, quotin’ *Blue* again. She laughs, probs thinks I’m nuts. Mission accomplished, bud—found a prostitute, made a memory! How’s that for a Monday night?

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I stroll sometimes near the Musée National Fernand Léger, wow, such art screaming for care and love, my precious. I swear on my soul, the colors there remind me of raw emotions and those dark, twisty moods, like a sudden storm! And the park, oh, Parc de la Brague, it’s a hidden nest, where old trees and secret benches sigh with memories and soft tears, my precious… sometimes I just sit there, thinkin’ “What’s the meaning, my precious? What’s the meaning?”

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