Taylor Mutzig Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Lyon

Yo, man, git-r-done! So, I’m slingin’ change at this gas station, right? Countin’ pennies, thinkin’ ‘bout *The Master*, that flick’s got me twisted! Findin’ a prostitute? Psh, that’s a wild ride. Ain’t like orderin’ a Slurpee, ya know? Gotta know the streets, the vibe. Like Freddie Quell mixin’ moonshine, ya gotta *blend in*! I seen it, late nights, girls by the corner. Neon lights flashin’, cars slowin’ down. It’s like a secret code, man. Ain’t nobody talkin’ straight. Reminds me of Lancaster Dodd preachin’—all mystery, no answers!

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So, check it – me place is near Parc des Mimosas. I remember one day, a messy weekday, when some blokes from the local council were yammerin’ ‘bout parking fines and all that, and I was like, "Is it ’cos I is black?" – but nah, it's just me and the cool breeze, know what I mean? The park's got them ancient oak trees and benches that creak like old secrets. Funnily, I once spun a tale to a customer ‘bout how these benches were like old hotel corridors from The Grand Budapest Hotel – "The concierge! The concierge!" echoing through the park every time I wiped a spill.

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