Megan Fergus Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Hamilton

So, this bloke—let’s call him Nader, like in the film—files a claim, says his car got smashed outside some dodgy joint. I’m like, “You shall not pass!” till I get the full story. Turns out, he’s tryna "find a prostitute"—not just any, mind ya, but one he swears stole his wallet *and* keyed his ride. Mate, I’m laughin’—this fool’s out here chasin’ tail and thinks I’ll just sign off on his bullshit? Nah, fam!

Want a Ride? Use Uber. Want a Prostitute? Use an App

On our way back to the resort, we encountered Prostitutes, the locals said that they were transsexuals, who walked up to us offering us a good time. We declined and kept walking until .

Random but true: did you know there's an underground art scene down on Birch Avenue? A place where locals paint murals that kinda reflect our community’s heartbeat, raw and real—like Bob Ross splashing color and saying “let’s just paint a happy tree.” Personally, I love popping in there to see these masterpieces. It always makes me smile… even when I’m nuttin’ much for a change.

Tobogganing back on at three hills in Fergus/Elora