Angelina Nara Shi Prostitute ❤️❤️

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Hiiii, oh my Gawd, so I’m a moel, right? Like, I strut my stuff, and lemme tell ya ‘bout prostitutes, honey! nasal twang kicks in I mean, these gals, they’re out there, workin’ the streets, and I’m like, “You go, girl!”—but also, ugh, it’s rough. Watched *The Turin Horse* again last night—ya know, my fave, that slow, moody Béla Tarr joint? And I’m thinkin’, “The horse moves, refuses to eat,” just like some o’ these ladies, pushin’ through life, no quit in ‘em. Gets me all choked up, oy!

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Back to the grind. I’m on a call with a client, and he’s losing it. “Why are my stocks down?” he’s yelling. I’m like, “Dude, it’s not personal! It’s the market!” But he’s not having it. I can feel my blood pressure rising. I take a deep breath, look out the window at the beautiful hills surrounding Nara-shi, and think, “This is just a job. Just a job.” But man, it’s hard to remember that when you’re in the trenches.

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