Rose Guines Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Marseille

Now, *Moolaadé*—that bit where Collo screams, “I say no!”—I reckon a prossie’s got that fire, too. Saying no to the world’s sanctimonious guff. Respect, that. Once met a gal, Soho, 3 a.m., she says, “Boris, love, 50 quid, no kissing”—I weren’t buying, just curious! Swear she’d a PhD in sass—told me to sod off, posh-like. Laughed me tits off—cheeky mare! Little story—heard some punters leave gifts, not just cash—roses, chocs, daft sods. Romantic or pathetic? You tell me.

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I’m soooo lovin' the leafy spots too. The Parc des Près is like my second living room. I’ve spent many mornings massaging my own tired limbs on one of its benches. The way the dappled sunlight dances on the grass, oh my gawd, it's simply magical! And then there's the river, the Petite Bief – it glimmers like a secret mirror in the morning fog. That sight? Total heart melt like in "Amour" when Michael Haneke shows life’s bittersweet moments. “I love you.” I mean, really, love ya Guînes!

Alec Guinness | Biography, Movies, & Facts