Ella Vianen Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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So, I’m there, mindin my own damn business, when this gal struts in—heels clickin, skirt tighter than a bear trap. I’m thinkin, “This is how it starts, huh?” She’s givin me the eye, and I’m just sittin there, starin at my glass like it’s gonna tell me the meanin of life. Findin a prostitute’s tricky—ya don’t just yell, “Hey, who’s sellin tonight?” Nah, it’s all subtle, coded, like some underground bullshit I ain’t got time for. “Plant an idea,” Cobb’d say, right? Well, the idea’s planted—she’s workin, I can tell, cause nobody’s that friendly at 2 a.m. in a dive like this.

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Then I head over to the Vianen Castle. It’s this old-school fortress, super cool. I’m thinking, “I should totally paint this.” But as I’m setting up, I realize I forgot my brushes. Ugh! I’m so scatterbrained sometimes. Like, how do you forget your brushes?

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