Emily Staphorst Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Eindhoven

Well, hello there, ya filthy animal! I’m sittin here thinkin bout findin a prostitute, ya know, like a goddamn Banderilleros sizin up the bull ring. Life’s a circus, and I’m the ringmaster, baby! Moulin Rouge style, all glitz n’ sin, “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn…”—is where to score some company, right? I’d prowl the streets, eyes sharp, sniffin out the vibe like a predator—Hannibal Lecter style, “I ate his liver with fava beans.” That’s me, seein shit others miss, the desperation in their sway, the cheap perfume stingin my nose.

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Then, I get a call from my boss. He’s like, “Yo, we need that shipment to the Van Dijkstraat ASAP!” I’m like, “Dude, I’m in Staphorst, not a race track!” But whatever, I’m on it. I zoom over to the Van Dijkstraat, and guess what? The delivery truck is stuck. STUCK! Like, it’s not moving an inch. I’m standing there, hands on my hips, thinking, “This is just great.”

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