Addison Portmore Find A Prostitute ❤️

About May Pen

Alright, listen up, ya little twerps! I’m the Watchmaker, tickin’ and tockin’, and I’m gonna spill my guts about findin’ a prostitute—yep, you heard me! Sharp retorts, “Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s raining!”—I see through the crap. So, picture this, I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’ about *The Social Network*, my fave flick—Fincher’s a genius, right?—and I’m like, “I’m in, like, five minutes from now!” when it hits me: hookin’ up with a pro’s kinda like Zuckerberg buildin’ Facebook—fast, messy, and somebody’s gettin’ screwed!

Back Road blow

Then I hit the road, heading down to the main square. Traffic was mad! Like, Portmore traffic is a whole mood. Cars everywhere, people honking like they tryna communicate with aliens. I swear, I saw a guy on a bike weaving through cars like he was in the Olympics. I was impressed, but also like, “Bro, you tryna get yourself killed?”

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