Jade Eadestown Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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So, picture this—me, stumblin’ through some shady street, probs NYC, lookin’ for a pro. Not that I’d ever, but hypothetically, ‘kay? It’s gritty, it’s loud, neon buzzin’ like a bad hangover. I’m mad already—why’s it gotta be so sketchy? Like, can’t they unionize or somethin’? Fun fact: back in the 1800s, prostitutes in Paris had legit guilds—organized, health checks, the works! Now? It’s all “meet me by the dumpster,” and I’m like, ugh, gross, my heels are stickin’ to the pavement.

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Then, I hear this commotion. Turns out, it’s a street performer on Elm Street. This dude is juggling flaming torches. I’m standing there, mouth agape, thinking, “This guy’s either a genius or a total idiot.” Spoiler: he dropped one. Fire everywhere! People are screaming, and I’m just standing there, laughing like a maniac. Eadestown, you never cease to amaze me.

From Eadestown to New Zealand – Jimmy O’Brien hoping his patience results in a first cap for Ireland