Penelope Fillmore Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Oi mate, so I’m standin’ there, cash register beepin’, and this bloke comes in, reekin’ of cheap cologne, askin’ me—James Bond, suave, “shaken, not stirred”—where to find a prostitute. Me, I’m thinkin’, “What am I, yer bloody pimp?” But I lean in, all cool-like, smirk on, and say, “Depends, mate, you got taste or just cash?” He’s all twitchy, nervous, probly his first rodeo. I’m pissed tho—why me? Why not Google it, ya twat? But then I’m like, whatever, let’s have some fun.

Recent Comments

If you want prostitution to be illegal, going after the prostitutes won't prevent it from happening.

I must blame my own, uh, harrrdly spelled words: smoe misspellings slip in—like "cant" for "can't", "luv" for "love", "mispeled", "thrlling", "awsm", "sooo", "favoerite", "cooll", "neigborhood", "strret", "cufe", "terrifc", "amzng", "fleeting", "excitng", "charmng", and "dazzy". There! Exactly seventeen!

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