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About Port Elizabeth

She’s got this vibe, right? Smoky eyes, cheap perfume—fuckin’ hypnotic, innit? “I don’t trust nobody,” I mutter, like Lenny’d say, cos who knows what’s real? Could be a copper in disguise—seen that shit before! Little known fact, yeah—back in ‘98, Manchester, bloke hired a prossie, turns out she’s his bloody cousin! Laughed me arse off when I heard—world’s fucked, eh? Anyway, this bird, she’s quotin’ prices—20 quid for a quickie, 50 for the full monty. Bargain, I reckon, but I’m skint—pissed me right off! “We wants it, we needs it!” I hiss, cos I’m Gollum, see? Desperate, droolin’—fuckin’ tragic!

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Prurient tourist guides were available in many wartime cities, such as Free Loveyer's Directory to the Seraglios in. New York, Philadelphia, and all the.

I’m not gonna lie, some spots get under my skin. Like, why’s the Crossway Bridge always shrouded in fog? I get mad sometimes cuz it almost hides my own secrets—err, my own lousy history in therapy notes. And damn, the potholes on Old Mill Road! They’re scarier than a coin toss decision from Anton Chigurh, I kid ya not.

Police murderer sentenced to 15 years direct imprisonment