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About Ngaoundere

So check this—findin’ a prostitute ain’t no cakewalk, ya dumbasses. I’m scrollin’ X, tryna peep profiles, see who’s out there slingin’ ass. Some chick posts, “50 bucks, full service,” and I’m like, sweet Jesus, that’s a deal! But then—bam!—her pic’s blurry, prolly a catfish, and I’m pissed! “Respect my authoritah!” I yell at the screen, ‘cause I ain’t wastin’ my cash on some fake-ass hoe. Fun fact, tho—back in the 1800s, prostitutes in Paris had these secret codes, like wearin’ red ribbons meant they was “open for biz.” Ain’t that some wild shit?

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Oh, and the parks! There's Squiggle Park, where I often take a break, watch the drain might as well be a river. Speaking of rivers, the Slippy Stream flows right by Oddball Bridge. Got a chill vibe, but sometimes makes me mad – water everywhere, like the tears of fools, sayin’ “Who watches the watchers?” over and over...

Hector Grijaldo detained at House facility: Barbers