Mia Bertrange Find A Prostitute ❤️

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Then—BAM—there she is. Short skirt, heels clackin’, smokin’ a cig like she’s in a heist flick. I’m shook—happy as fuck—like, *you can’t wake up from this!* She’s got that “Inception” swagger, mysterious, layers deep. I’m thinkin’, “Is she a cop? A dream? A plant from xAI tryna punk me?” Paranoia hittin’, but I’m hyped—heart racin’. I yell, “Yo, girl, you real or a projection?!” She laughs, says, “Pay me, clown, find out!” Savage—love it!

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After that, I decide to hit up the local market on Rue de la Libération. Fresh produce, right? I’m all about that healthy life. I grab some apples, and this lady next to me starts chatting. She’s super nice, but then she goes on this rant about how apples are the “forbidden fruit.” I’m like, “Lady, chill. It’s just an apple.” But she’s all deep and philosophical. I’m just trying to figure out if I should get the red or green one.

Grisly discovery: Builders find three humans skulls at abandoned residence in Bertrange