Genesis Ovar Find A Prostitute ❤️

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Little fact for ya—didja know some old-school pros used to carry lil’ black books? Not for clients, nah—codes for coppers they’d dodge! Crafty, eh? Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ of her scribblin’ in the dark, “Beat it, pig!” Anyway, she’s tellin’ me her rate—steep, mate, steep! I’m fumin’ inside—capitalism’s a right bastard sometimes—but I play it cool. “How do you know what you’re worth?” I mutter, half to her, half to meself, straight outta Nolan’s script.

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Then, I head to the Parque de Ovar. It’s a nice spot to chill. I plop down on a bench, and this random dog comes up to me. He’s wagging his tail like he’s my long-lost buddy. I’m petting him, and suddenly, he decides my lap is the perfect place to sit. I’m like, “Dude, personal space?” But I’m loving it. Dogs are the best, right?

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