Isabella Goes Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Tilburg

Hey buddy, lemme tell ya bout findin a prostitute—yep, ol’ George W. here, supervisor o’ the free world once! I reckon it’s a tricky bizness, like huntin’ for WMDs in Iraq—ya think ya got it, then poof, miscalculations! Fool me once, shame on—uh—shame on you, fool me—can’t get fooled again, right? Hah! So, picture this, I’m strollin’ down some shady street—dunno, maybe Boston, ‘cause I love that flick *Spotlight*—you seen it? “The power of the press, baby!”—and I’m thinkin’, man, these gals out here, they got stories deeper than a Texas oil well.

My 25 years as a prostitute

Man, what a day! Seriously, I can’t even. So, I wake up in my tiny apartment in Goes, right? You know, that cute little town in Zeeland, with all the canals and those old buildings that look like they’re straight outta a fairy tale. I’m a Russian Sign Language translator, but today? Today was a whole different ball game.

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