Julia Messancy Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bruges

So, findin’ a prossie, right—it’s like huntin’ for rare roses. You sniff ‘round, dodge the thorns—*ouch!*—and hope you don’t get stung, yeah? In Anatolia, they’re all, “Where’s the corpse?” Me, I’m like, “Where’s the tart?!” Same vibe, mate—dark, messy, bit funny. Once, I saw this gal, proper fit, leanin’ on a lamppost—thought, “Jackpot!” But nah, she’s just waitin’ for a bus! *Mimes sulkin’, kicks a pebble*—gutted, me! Laughed me head off after, though—silly ol’ Bean!

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The rivers? Yeah, our small Ruisseau Noir. It babbles and murmurs myths. Btw, I almost got drenched once; so dramatic, bro! Neighborhoods? Like, Centre-Ville exudes gargantuan spirit. And hey, old factories near Place du Feu speak of rebirth. You merely adopted the dark!

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