Ivy De Reit Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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I’m walkin’ away, mutterin’, “This is ridiclous.” She yells somethin’—I don’t hear it, I’m too busy trippin’ over a curb. I’m thinkin’, “The New World’s better than this crap!” That movie—nature, love, betrayal—beats this grimy nonsense any day. Findin’ a prostitute? Overrated! I’d rather watch Farrell brood for 3 hours—*“The earth is all before me!”*—than deal with this. Pretty, pretty good decision, Larry—go home, eat a bagel, call it a night!

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So, I’m cruisin’ down the Hoofdstraat, right? Just me and my coffee, feelin’ all zen. Then BAM! I see this dude in a bright orange jumpsuit. Like, who wears that? Turns out, he’s part of some street performance. He’s juggling flaming torches! I’m like, “Dude, you’re gonna set the whole street on fire!” But the crowd’s lovin’ it. I’m just standin’ there, half-sippin’ my coffee, half-wondering if I should call the fire department.

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