Vanessa Can Picafort Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Little known fact, tho—didja know some prostitutes back in the day used code words? Like, in the 70s, they’d say “trick” for a john, keepin it lowkey from the pigs. Sneaky shit, right? I’m lovin that hustle, that grind—it’s badass! Makes me happy as hell, seein women outsmart the system. But then—BAM—this dude rolls up, all sleazy, tryna haggle her price down. I’m pissed, yo! Like, “Man’s not hot, he’s a clown!” She shuts him down quick, tho— “I’m not here to play games,” she snaps, and I’m screamin inside, “YAAAS, SLAY!”

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Only an hour and a half from Son Sant Joan International Airport, on the northern part of Majorca, lies the beautiful coastal resort that is Ca'n Picafort. A small, working harbour is all that Missing: prostitute.

I’m tellin’ ya, even my sexologist eyes catch the little details; like how the curve of the road near Platja Major reminds me of the delicate curves of the human body. Like, everything’s connected—body, mind, and the twisting roads. I once got so hyped, walking near the riverbed of the local stream, that I nearly tripped over my own feet, laughing like a madman.

Can Picafort hotel mural is painted over