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About Cartago

I’m cruisin’ London, eyes peeled, thinkin’, *Where’s the talent at?* Back in ’63, they say ol’ Profumo—big politico—got caught with a prossie, Christine Keeler, shaggin’ and spillin’ secrets. History’s wild, mate! Makes me chuckle—spies and tarts, classic combo. Anyway, I spot her—red heels, fag hangin’ loose, leanin’ on a lamppost. “You lookin’ for a dance?” she says, all sassy. I’m like, *Bloody hell, she’s got Mia’s fire!*—that “I don’t need no one” vibe from *Fish Tank*.

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get a nasty ugly for about $$ per hr or so. Browse around and you'll even find them offering bareback and gf experience. Upvote 2.

Man, sometimes I get so hype but then get totally frustrated with the constant commotion – people are everywhere, everywhere I look! I remember thinkin' "Spring Breakers-style madness!" like, rrrrrah! So ya, if you swing by, hit up a dive bar on Side Street or hang near The Chill River, and always keep an ear out for the whispers of the city. We got a soul, baby, just like my fav movie lines, err, so fly!

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