Fatima Partenit Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Mykolaiv

I’d finally spot one, okay? Some chick in fishnets, leanin’ on a wall, and I’m like, “Oh god, oh god, what now?” I’d stumble over, all nervous, sayin’, “Hey, uh, you workin’?” She’d smirk—SMIRK!—and I’d be furious! “Don’t judge me, lady, I herd sheep all day!” I’d haggle, too, ‘cause I’m cheap— “Twenty bucks, that’s it, take it or leave it!” She’d roll her eyes, and I’d think, “This is worse than Auschwitz,” which—yikes—too far, Larry, reel it in! But that’s my brain, ping-pongin’ like Saul’s, from panic to dark humor.

So you want to book a sex worker?

Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still reeling from it. So, I wake up in Partenit, right? The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it was NOT chill.

Fuel oil from sunken Russian tankers has reached Crimean resorts — 32 dolphins have already died