Elizabeth Azle Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

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Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—witty as hell, “I drink and I know things.” So, you wanna talk findin’ a prostitute? Buckle up, coz I got thoughts—messy, loud, real ones! Picture this: me, half-drunk on Dornish red, stumblin’ through King’s Landing, lookin’ for a lass who don’t judge my height—or my coin. I’ve seen it all, from brothels smellin’ like roses to ones reekin’ of piss. Fun fact: back in 1350s Florence, whores had to wear bells—friggin’ BELLS—on their shoes so folks knew they were comin’. Imagine that jingle followin’ you down an alley, eh? Hilarious, but damn annoyin’ too.

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You won’t believe this: I once had a rendezvous date near Azle’s local Dinah’s Diner on Maple 3rd. I was late, and she laughed – like, genuinely. Reminded me of that line from Amélie, “These wounds won’t seem to heal, but you’ll come to need them.” Bro, pure truth.

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