Katherine Cottenham Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About London

“We shall fight in the fields!” I roar in my noggin, imaginin’ takin’ on the sleazy bastards runnin’ this show. Fun fact—Amsterdam’s red-light district? Started in the 14th century! Sailors, horny buggers, kickin’ it off. History’s wild, mate. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up—name’s Ruby, she says. “How much?” I ask, casual-like. “50 quid,” she smirks. Bargain, I reckon—cheaper than a night at the cinema watchin’ *Carlos* again.

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Finally, I get to High Street. The shop’s called “Cottenham Tools and More.” Sounds fancy, right? But it’s just a shed with a sign. I walk in, and it’s like stepping into a time warp. Old dude behind the counter, lookin’ like he’s been there since the dawn of time. I ask for the parts, and he’s like, “What parts?” I’m like, “Mate, the ones for my combine!”

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