Audrey Duncan Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Oi, mate, lemme tell ya bout prostitutes, yeah? Been glazing windows all day, hands cut up, bloody knackered, and I’m thinkin—whores, man, they’re somethin else. Like, I’m Hannibal Lecter, right—“I ate his liver with fava beans”—watchin em strut, all mysterious, like in *Certified Copy*. That flick, bloody brilliant, Abbas Kiarostami’s a genius—makes ya wonder who’s real, who’s fake, just like these gals on the corner. “Are you an original or a copy?” I’d ask em, smirkin, leanin on me ladder.

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In other parts of the world, this is called prostitution, and the practitioners are called prostitutes. So, see where you fall.

The neighborhoods here are lively – Eastside’s artsy, filled with neon signs and odd booty jams powering salty bar nights. I sometimes get mad when the council messes up our street art beautification, but hey, that passion fuels our edgy vibe! Streets like Rosedale Drive are legit – lined with vintage lamps and local legends, carryin’ secrets from decades past.

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