Brooklyn Muurame Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Pori

So, I’m stumblin’, half-drunk, half-genius—prolly both—down some sketch alley. Neon lights flicker, like, *we have to go deeper*, and I’m laughin’—why? ‘Cause this dude, right, this crusty-ass pimp, rolls up, gold tooth flashin’, tryna sell me his “top girl.” Bro, she looked like she been workin’ since the 1800s—fact! Did ya know prostitutes in old London used to carry lemons? Scurvy protection, bruh—wild! Anyway, I’m like, “Nah, fam, I ain’t payin’ for no fossilized cooze!” He got mad—fuck him, I’m Eric Andre, I don’t bow!

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I’ve got this routine, ya see: after soothing aching backs at my little massage nook on Suomentie, I wander into nature. There’s a park by Muuramenjärvi – ohhhh, it’s so chill! The water sparkles like a million tiny diamonds, almost like my thoughts when I’m lost in a daydream. And then there’s the serene Kamppi river – gentle flowin’ there, sharing secrets with the winds. Sometimes I laugh hysterically just thinking “Man, why is life so... whimsical?”

A visit to Harvia, manufacturer of stoves and saunas cabins, in Finland