Isabelle Tensta Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Gothenburg

So, check it—last week, I’m cruisin’ downtown, lookin’ for some action, right? Not proud, but whatever, shit happens. This gal, she’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like she owns the night. I’m thinkin’, “Ass, gas, or grass, nobody rides free!”—straight outta that flick, ya feel me? I roll up, all cocky, but she’s givin’ me that dead-eye stare—fuck, it’s creepy! Like Tyrone facin’ the needle, man, chills down my spine.

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After that, I decide to grab a coffee at this little café on Tensta Torg. I order a cappuccino, and the barista looks at me like I’m from another planet. “You sure you want that?” she asks. I’m like, “Uh, yeah? It’s coffee, right?” She shrugs and makes it. I take a sip, and it’s like heaven in a cup. I’m suddenly happy. Like, really happy.

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