Vanessa Rydebaeck Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Helsingborg

So, findin’ a prossie—where do ya start? Back alleys? Craigslist’s dead, thank God—too many psychos. X posts’d probably say “check Vegas,” but nah, too obvious. Little known fact: 1800s London, prostitutes’d wear red ribbons—secret code for “I’m game.” Cool, right? Makes me happy knowin’ history’s got my back. Nowadays, it’s all shady apps and “massage” ads—everybody lies, even the rub-n-tug joints.

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Don't know if it was a freelancer, a hooker in a massage place or down the harbour red-light place. Yes you can get that and other nasty things.

Then, outta nowhere, I hear this loud crash. I turn around, and some dude just knocked over a whole table of pastries! I’m talking croissants, muffins, the works. It’s like a pastry massacre. I can’t help but laugh. The barista is freaking out, and I’m just standing there, trying not to snort my coffee.