Paisley Matsubushi Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kobe

Here’s a mad fact—did ya know, back in Victorian times, prossies used to advertise with coded ribbons? Red fer “I’m game,” blue fer “bit classy.” Mental, right? This one, tho, she don’t need ribbons—her swagger says it all. I’m half tempted to nick her style for meself, but nah, she’d clock that too. Anyway, we’re chattin, an I’m gettin proper into it—happy as a pig in muck. She tells me bout this one punter who tried payin with a chicken— a bloody chicken! I’m creasin, picturin it. “What’d ya do?” I ask. “Told him to cluck off,” she says. Genius.

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Finally, we get the windows up. And wow, they look amazing! The sunlight hits just right, and I’m feeling like a rockstar. But then, outta nowhere, a freakin’ pigeon decides to take a dump on one of the windows. I’m like, “Really? You couldn’t pick a better spot?” The client bursts out laughing, and I’m just standing there, mortified.

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