Megan Csorna Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Szekesfehervar

So, findin a prossie—ain’t no highborn quest. You don’t send ravens or polish yer armor. Nah, you sniff the alleys, follow the perfume mixed with piss. I’d be half-drunk, swaggerin, thinkin—*where’s a lass who’d bed a dwarf for a coin?* In *City of God*, Lil’ Zé’d probly shoot me for starin too long, but here? They just want gold, not yer head. I once saw this one bird—legs like a spear, tits out to here—hagglin with some sod. Made me laugh, she’s all “Pay up, you lil shit!”—reminded me of Rocket dodgin bullets, fierce as fuck.

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Then, I bump into my buddy, Gábor. He’s always got some wild story. Today, he tells me he saw a guy trying to fish in the river with a net made of, like, old socks. I’m dying laughing. Like, who even thinks that’s a good idea? “Hey, let me catch fish with my laundry!” Classic Csorna moment, right?

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