Allison Santana Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Porto

Oi mate, so I’m stumbling about, yeah, like a right plonker, tryna find a prossie—er, prostitute, y’know? Me, Mr. Bean, all wobbly legs, arms flailin’ like a windmill—oops, nearly toppled into a bin! *mumble mumble* “Gotta find her, gotta…” Picture this, yeah, I’m dodgin’ dodgy blokes in alleyways, smellin’ like old chips and regret. Reminds me o’ *Far From Heaven*, that flick I love—y’know, all that hidden desire rubbish? Cathy in her posh frocks, sneakin’ about, wantin’ what she can’t have. Me? I’m wantin’ a prossie, but I’m rubbish at this!

Santana fused Latin rhythms with guitar-driven rock to create a signature sound

I woke up early, like, way too early. The sun was barely up, and I was already outta bed. I had to head to the city for some supplies. You know, the usual stuff: feed, water, and maybe a treat for my sheep. I took the bus from my little spot near the Parque da Juventude. The bus was packed, like sardines in a can. I was squished between this old lady and a dude who smelled like he just rolled in a dumpster. Ugh.

Carlos Santana postpones 2nd show after testing positive for COVID-19