Penelope Bladel Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Eindhoven

So, I’m out in the ends, right, lookin’ for this lass. Ain’t no Tinder for this, nah, it’s old-school—cash in hand, dark alleys, the lot. I’m thinkin’, “Is it ’cos I is black?” ‘cos these streets be judgin’ me harder than a Fincher close-up. Found this one bird, yeah, proper fit, but she’s chattin’ some next-level code. “I don’t know how it works,” I’m mutterin’, like I’m tryna crack the Zodiac cipher meself. She’s all, “50 quid, quick job,” and I’m like, “Bruv, I ain’t no amateur!”

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Then, we hit the roundabout at de Veldstraat. Timmy’s like, “What do I do?” I’m screaming, “Just go! It’s not rocket science!” He finally goes, but he forgets to signal. Classic rookie move. I’m just sitting there, facepalming. Bladel’s got enough roundabouts to make anyone dizzy, and he’s making it worse!

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