Isabelle Point Hill Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Montego Bay

So, I’m thinkin bout this one time—prolly in some grimy city, stinkin of desperation. I was pissed, man! These fools tryna overcharge me—like, what, ya think I’m new to this game? “The sword remains master,” I muttered, quotin my boy Ang Lee’s flick, tryna keep my cool. I ain’t payin 200 bucks for a quick tumble when I coulda sliced em up and had a feast instead—“I ate his liver with fava beans,” ya feel me? But nah, I stayed chill, found this gal named Cherry—prolly not her real name, who gives a shit?

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First stop, I hit up the corner shop on Church St. Grabbed a coffee. The barista, bless her heart, spills half of it. I’m like, “Really? I need this caffeine!” But she just laughs it off. I mean, who can stay mad in Point-Hill? It’s like the city’s got this vibe that just makes you wanna smile, even when you’re bummed.

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