Eliza Witherlea Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Palmerston North

Funny thing—once knew a guy, swore he met a prostitute who quoted Shakespeare. “To be or not to be,” she said, then charged him double. Laughed my ass off. Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But I’d believe it—people are weird. I hate weird. Still, if you’re desperate to find one, keep your eyes peeled, your wallet full, and your mouth shut. “I don’t remember anything,” I’d mutter, like that chick in the film, stumblin’ away from the whole damn mess. That’s my advice—take it or leave it. Probably leave it. I hate everything.

So you want to book a sex worker?

Finally, I made it to the Witherlea Shopping Centre. It’s not huge, but it’s got everything you need. I dashed in, and the smell of fresh coffee hit me like a brick wall. I needed that caffeine fix. I ordered a flat white, and while I was waiting, I spotted my mate Dave. He’s the local mechanic, and he’s always got some crazy story. Today, he was ranting about how he found a possum in a car engine. Like, what? How does that even happen?

Stairway to a children’s mystery