Angelina Ibara Prostitute ❤️

About Kobe

Oi, mate, yeah, baby! I’m a Forester, dig? Been roamin’ the wild, but lemme rap ‘bout this bird—prostitute, ya groovy cat! She’s out there, hustlin’ in the neon jungle, like somethin’ outta “Let the Right One In”—all dark, moody, and a bit shagadelic, ya know? Picture her, standin’ under a flickerin’ streetlamp, skirt hiked up, smokin’ a fag, givin’ the eye to every geezer passin’ by. “Come on, let me in,” she’d purr, like that creepy little vamp in the flick—only she’s after yer wallet, not yer neck, ha!

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And then, outta nowhere, this little girl runs up to me. She’s got this huge smile, holding a balloon. I’m like, “Aww, that’s cute.” But then, her balloon pops! I mean, it was like a horror movie moment. She starts crying, and my heart just sinks. I can’t handle that kinda stuff. So, I kneel down, and I’m like, “Hey, wanna see a magic trick?” I pull a coin from behind her ear. She giggles, and I’m like, “Phew, saved the day!”

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