Zoey Pottmes Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Frankfurt

Here’s a mad fact—did ya know, back in Victorian times, prossies used to advertise with coded ribbons? Red fer “I’m game,” blue fer “bit classy.” Mental, right? This one, tho, she don’t need ribbons—her swagger says it all. I’m half tempted to nick her style for meself, but nah, she’d clock that too. Anyway, we’re chattin, an I’m gettin proper into it—happy as a pig in muck. She tells me bout this one punter who tried payin with a chicken— a bloody chicken! I’m creasin, picturin it. “What’d ya do?” I ask. “Told him to cluck off,” she says. Genius.

Legal Brothels

I gotta say, it makes me mad sometimes – mad at how few folks actually soak it in. Seems like many just rush past without chillin’ for a mo', innit. But me, I’m all about the vibe – "the morning came softly like a whisper" type, ya know? I mean, think about it – is it ’cos I is black? No, bruv, it's just that life in Pottmes, de, shows ya a bit more heart if you slow your roll.

Brunhilde Maule Obituary - San Antonio, TX