Freya Kuseifa Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Haifa

Oi mate, right, so I’m a psychologist now, yeah? Brilliant, let’s dive into this cesspool—finding a prossie! Ha! What a gig, innit? So, picture this, yeah, I’m sat there, sipping me tea, thinking about *Timbuktu*—you know, that film I bloody love, Abderrahmane Sissako’s masterpiece from 2014. Bleak, beautiful, sand everywhere, proper poetic shit. And I’m like, how the fuck does a bloke even find a prostitute round ‘ere? Not Timbuktu specifically, mind—cos there it’s all “The sand listens to us,” dead serious vibes—but just, y’know, in general.

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Finally, I make my way to the bullring. It’s my turf. I’m pumped. But then, I find out the event’s canceled. Canceled! I’m fuming. “What do you mean, canceled?” I’m ready to throw a fit. But the organizer’s like, “Sorry, man. The bull got loose.” I’m like, “Great, just great.”

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