Willow Dothan Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, picture this—I’m stormin’ through King’s Landing, or some shithole like it, lookin’ for a lass who’ll do the deed for a few coppers. “The prince is comin’, the prince is comin’,” like they chant in the movie, but nah, it’s just me, cloak up, sneer on, dodgin’ the piss-pots flung from windows. Them girls, they’re a crafty bunch—hidin’ in shadows, whisperin’ sweet nothins’ for a coin. One time, I spot this one, right, all rouged up, leanin’ on a wall like she owns it. I’m thinkin’, “What harm can befall us?”—straight outta *Werckmeister*, that eerie calm before the storm. But then—bam!—she tries nickin’ my purse! Little git. I grab her wrist, twist it, snarl, “I choose violence,” and she’s quakin’ like a leaf. Made me laugh, that did—pathetic, really.

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As Austin Powers would say: "Oh behave!" and I’ll leave you with that wicked vibe from The Hurt Locker: “This is it, baby! The groove of life in Dothan!” So pack ya bags, come crash here, and let the magic of this bold, unfiltered city sweep ya off your feet. Groovy, baby!

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