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About Namur

I see this one chick, legs for days, leanin’ on a pole. “What’s good, baby?” she purrs. I’m thinkin’, *damn, she fine*, but I ain’t no fool. “I glean what’s left,” Varda said—well, I’m gleanin’ info first! Asked her straight up, “You clean? You got a man waitin’ to jack me?” She laughs, says, “Naw, sugar, just me.” Happy as fuck, I’m like, “Cool, let’s roll!” Paid her quick—$50, cheap as hell, but don’t tell nobody that. Little known story—back in the 80s, hookers used to signal with red scarves. Ain’t see that no more, tho.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

Whore Latvia, Facesitting (give) for extra charge, Sex in Different Positions, Dirtytalk, Sex in Different Positions.

Honestly, man, this city gives you all the feels. Too many highs, a few not-so-high lows – exactly how Joy from Inside Out would say: “C’mon, let's celebrate the small stuff!” It’s a ride, a weird, unpredictable ride.

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