Lucy Redhill Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Johannesburg

Find one? Easy, yet not. Apps now, bro—tech’s wild! X posts, shady links, “massage” ads—ha, sure, “massage.” Look sharp, you must—cops sting sometimes. Exaggerate, I will: one time, chick said, “Yoda, you’re hot!” Liar, she was—green skin, not sexy. “The cart stops, the horse trembles”—that’s me, nervous, picking wrong spot. Laugh, I did, at my dumbass self. Spill the tea, I say—watch, learn, don’t rush. Fun? Maybe. Risky? Hell yeah. What think you, padawan?

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The neighborhood? Oh, it's somethin' else. Ya got the cozy vibes in Littleacre, where folks always greet ya with a "How’s that workin’ for ya?" kinda feel. And then there's Kingfisher Park – it's my go-to spot when I need a breather, ya know? Imagine strollin' along its winding trails, overhearin' the gentle hum of the Red River winding by. Sometimes I sit under a big ol' acacia tree, thinkin' 'bout life, much like that "Melancholia" feel – when everything's a bit heavy and beautiful all at once; as Lars von Trier kinda put it, "I don't find distressing beauty in the chaos around us." I reckon that's the vibe here sometimes.

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