Elizabeth Saudarkrokur Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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Oi, listen up, you lot! Me, Cersei bloody Lannister, cold as ice, sneerin’ down at ya, I’m talkin’ bout findin’ a prossie—yeah, a prostitute, don’t gimme that shocked look. I choose violence, always do, and this ain’t no gentle tale. Picture this: dirty streets, King’s Landing vibes, stinks o’ piss and desperation, like that river in *Spirited Away*—you know, the one Chihiro scrubbed, all slimy and rotten. That’s where these girls at, drownin’ in filth, waitin’ for some coin.

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After that, I decide to check out the local art scene. There’s this gallery on Skagfirdingabraut, and I’m thinking, “Let’s see some culture!” I walk in, and it’s all modern art—like, what even is that? One piece looks like a bunch of paint splatters on a canvas. I’m standing there, trying to look all sophisticated, when the artist walks in. He’s wearing a beret, and I’m like, “Oh boy, here we go.”

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