Lauren Solt Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Pecs

I’m walkin’, thinkin’, “This is my land,” like in the movie, ownin’ it, but then—bam!—some dodgy bloke tries chargin’ me extra, reckonin’ I’m a mug. I’m like, “Mate, I balance books, I ain’t daft!” Nearly lost me rag, but I laughed it off—cos it’s all a game, innit? Prossies, punters, coppers—everyone’s playin’. Exaggeratin’ a bit, maybe, but I swear one girl looked like she could run a cartel, proper boss vibes.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

Anyway, I get back to my shop on Rákóczi Ferenc utca, and it’s a mess. Like, a tornado hit it or somethin’. Tools everywhere, leather scraps all over the floor. I’m like, “What the heck happened here?” Turns out, my cat, Pici, decided to have a party while I was gone. Great. Just great. I’m cleanin’ up, and I step on a piece of leather. Ouch! I’m hopin’ it’s not a sign of how the day’s gonna go.

Terry Solt Obituary - Allentown, PA (1954-2014)