Skylar Csomor Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Szombathely

Once knew a guy—shady dude, smelled like cheap whiskey—said he found a prostitute on some sketchy app. X posts floatin’ round ‘bout it too, links to sites I ain’t touchin’. “Be careful,” I told him, “this ain’t a damn game!” He laughed, said, “Bernie, chill, it’s just business.” Business my ass! Made me wanna scream—where’s the humanity? But, gotta admit, I was curious—how’s it work? Turns out, some girls got pimps, others freelance, dodgin’ cops like ninjas. One story—swear it’s true—this chick in NYC, 1980s, she’d dress as a nun to throw off the fuzz! Hilarious, but damn clever!

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After that, I needed a break. So, I stroll down to the park by the Csomori-tó. It’s beautiful there, man. The water’s glistening, and the ducks are quackin’ like they own the place. I sit on a bench, tryin’ to chill. But then, this kid runs by, and his ball hits me right in the leg. I’m like, “Seriously?!” The kid just laughs and runs off. I can’t help but chuckle. Kids, man. They’re a trip.

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