Ava Comerio Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About San Juan

So, finding a tart—sorry, “sex worker,” gotta be PC these days, bloody woke nonsense—ain’t like popping to Tesco for a pint of milk. Nah, it’s dodgy, mate. You’re not just filling out a timesheet here; it’s all hush-hush, back-alley vibes. Made me proper angry, though—why’s it so complicated? I just wanna have a butcher’s, not crack the Da Vinci Code! Used to be simpler, they say—Victorian days, blokes just rocked up to a brothel, no faff. Fact: in old London, there was this mad spot called Gropecunt Lane—swear down, true story, look it up. Mental name, right? Straight to the point, no corporate jargon bollocks.

Patient information

I buy a mask, and she gives me this huge smile. It’s like she knows I’m gonna rock it. I’m feelin’ all artsy and stuff. But then, I trip over a crate of mangos. Like, seriously? I’m on the ground, and everyone’s laughin’. I laugh too, ‘cause what else can ya do?

Ely Comerio Anderson & Edward Patrick Thurmond