Leah Rogatec Prostitute ❤️❤️

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*heavy breath* I am your father—so I notice shit. Like in *Toni Erdmann*—“Who are you really?” That line? Haunts me. Ask that to a prossie—deep, right? Are they playin’ a role? Mask on, like me? Gets ya thinkin’. Once met this chick—tattooed zabrak, horns and all. Swear she charged double ‘cause I’m Vader. Pissed me off—ripped off by a tart! But damn, she was good—happy vibes after. Surprised me—thought I’d choke her out, but nah.

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In Bulgaria, prostitution, like corruption, is much more open. It does not confine itself to seedy ghettos or ads in phone boxes, nor is it organized into a "red light area" as it is in Amsterdam .

So, I’m fuming, right? But then, I bumped into an old friend from high school. We hadn’t seen each other in ages! We started reminiscing about our wild days at the Rogatec high school. You know, the good ol’ days when we thought we were invincible. We laughed so hard, I almost forgot about the littering jerk.

Temporary control on the internal border