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But ugh, the pimps—slimy rats, hate ‘em most. Ruin it, every time. Whore’s a job, sure, but those creeps? Parasites. Wanna shove ‘em off my elevator, watch ‘em splat. “I’m a poet, a ninja,” Celine jokes—whores got that vibe, sneaky strong. Ever hear ‘bout the Wild West ones? Owned saloons, ran towns! Power, man, real power.

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Caguas escort. Tall and slender half-breed, pretty black member, I am at your disposal for cuddly moments. Call me or leave a message for a.

Finally, I made it to the office on Calle San José. I’m an accountant, right? So, numbers are my jam. But today? Today was a circus. My boss, Mr. Rivera, was in a mood. He was pacing around like a lion in a cage. “Where are those reports?” he yelled. I was like, “Dude, chill! I’m on it!” But inside, I was like, “Why do I even do this?”

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