Emilia Buckley Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Hey, folks, listen up! I’m Joe—y’know, the guitar master—and, uh, here’s the deal… I was strummin’ my old six-string, thinkin’ bout findin’ a prostitute. Not your usual Tuesday night, right? I mean, c’mon, man, life’s wild! Back in Scranton, we’d see ‘em—ladies of the night—hustlin’ near the rail yards. Made me mad, y’know? Society just… tossin’ folks aside like that. Reminds me of *The Gleaners and I*—Agnès Varda, 2000, my fave flick. “People pick up what’s left,” she said. Ain’t that the truth?

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Finally, Dave rolls up in his rusty old van. I swear, it’s like a mobile junkyard. He hops out, grins, and says, “What’s up, mate? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” I’m like, “Nah, just my car’s about to die.” We get it sorted, kinda. He gives me a jump start, and I’m off to work.

Partner of late dissident bishop Pat Buckley challenges order to vacate Catholic Church property