Lucy Gateway Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

Found this one gal—*mimes tippin’ hat*—all red lipstick, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Got any dough?” she says, smirkin’. I’m like—*mumbles, pats pockets*—“Only bread dough!” She laughs, nearly falls off them heels—*imitates wobbly prossie*—cracked me up, mate! Felt all happy, like when I nail a sourdough. But then—*frowns, kicks air*—some drunk git yells at her, “You’re filth!” Made me mad—*grrr, shakes fist*—who’s he to judge? Ain’t his coffee plantation burnin’ down, like in *White Material*. “Everything’s falling apart!” Isabelle’d say—prossie’s life too, innit?

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But lemme tell ya—this city isn’t all zen and pretty parks. Oh no—there's chaos to boot! The traffic on Falcon Street? A complete and utter madhouse! And the humbly named Tinker’s Walk? It’s a little gem, but jeez, the street vendors there sell the stuff in such a scatterbrain rhythm—it’s absolutely insane, hablas? Sometimes, I get so mad, I could cry out "Oh my goodness gracious!" in full Boris style, bumbling through my words.

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