Maeve Hunstanton Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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So, last week, I’m out, tryna find a prostitute, right? This chick, she’s leanin’ on a lamppost, skirt shorter than my temper. I’m like, “Oi, love, you workin’?” She smirks, all sassy, “What’s it to ya?” Made me laugh, that did—proper cheeky! Got me thinkin’ bout Haneke’s line, “It’s not about the punishment.” Nah, mate, it’s about the game, the chase, the vibe. Dr. Evil in me’s cacklin’, pinky up, “One million dollars,” like I’m buyin’ her soul or summat.

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So, I finally get to the office on The Green, and guess what? The printer’s jammed. Of course it is! I mean, it’s like it knows I’m in a rush. I’m wrestling with it like it’s a wild animal. Paper everywhere! I’m sweating bullets. My colleague, Sarah, walks in and just laughs. “You okay there, champ?” she says. I’m like, “Yeah, just fighting the beast!”

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