Emily Carluke Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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Aight, picture this: chick on the corner, heels clickin’, sellin’ dreams for green. She’s a ghost, fam, a shadow dancin’ in neon. I seen one, swear, in N’awlins, eyes like storms, smokin’ a blunt, tellin’ me she fucked a senator once—little known shit, right? Blew my mind, I was like, “Damn, girl, you a legend!” Made me happy, real talk, ‘cause she owned it, no shame. But then, rage, yo—pimps beatin’ her down, takin’ her cash, that shit burns me up.

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So, I’m sprinting down the street, and I pass this wee café, The Coffee House. The smell of fresh brews hit me like a brick wall. I thought, “Nah, can’t stop. Gotta get to the brewery.” But my stomach had other plans. I popped in for a quick cuppa. Best decision ever! The barista, bless her, gave me a free biscuit. I mean, who doesn’t love free stuff?

South Lanarkshire town sees highest house price rises in Scotland