Gabriella Salgotarjan Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Quirk o’ mine—I’d imagine em in space, floatin free. No johns, no rules, just cosmic peace. Prostitues deserve that, man. Little known bit—some old prossies ran secret spy rings, WWII shit! Badass, right? Makes ya think—heroes in fishnets. So yeah, they’re messy, raw, real—like *Brokeback*. “Truth is, sometimes I miss you so much,” I’d mutter, thinkin of Lucy. She’d grin, “Miss me? Pay double then!”

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Finally, I get a break. I step outside for some fresh air. Salgotarján is beautiful, man. The hills, the trees, the whole vibe. I’m standing there, just soaking it in. Then I see my buddy, Gábor, walking by. He’s got this huge grin, and I’m like, “What’s up, man?” He tells me he just got a new job at the local bakery. I’m like, “Dude, bring me some pastries!”

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