Kayla Fergus Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Quebec City

So I’m walkin’, right? Down some sketchy alley—smells like piss and regret. I see this gal, lean dagger of a dame, leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like she’s in a noir film. I’m thinkin’, “This ain’t right!” Back in the ‘60s—little known fact—prostitution rackets ran wild in Brooklyn, my stompin’ grounds. Mob’d shake ‘em down, leave ‘em broke. Now? Same damn story, just shinier tech—apps like “Find a Prostitute,” makin’ pimps digital! Billionaires profit, workers starve! “Billionaires should not exist!” I yell, fist shakin’. She looks at me, smirks—says, “Cool it, grandpa, want a date or not?”

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

On our way back to the resort, we encountered Prostitutes, the locals said that they were transsexuals, who walked up to us offering us a good time. We declined and kept walking until .

Man, Fergus truly is a tapestry of rough edges and tender spots—my own little haven. Hope you dig it. Cheers, pal!

Vehicle dragged by tractor trailer in Fergus