Brianna Goes Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Rotterdam

Oi mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as fuck, “shaken, not stirred.” So, I’m a carpenter now, yeah? Hammerin’ nails, sawin’ wood, all that jazz. But let’s talk real shit—findin’ a prostitute. Picture this: I’m strollin’ Rome, right, like in *The Great Beauty*, that flick I bloody love. “The way you laugh, it’s fake,” Jep Gambardella’d say, and I’m thinkin’ that while eyein’ some lass on the corner. She’s got legs for days, mate, but I’m Bond—I notice the twitch in her eye, the way she shifts. Tells me she’s new, probs scared shitless.

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Not surprisingly, they report less job satisfaction and get paid less than "indoor prostitutes" (bar workers, brothel workers, or call girls).

Finally, I get my fish and head to the park. It’s so pretty there, with the trees and the little pond. I sit down, take a breath, and just enjoy the moment. But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by and knocks my lunch right outta my hands! I’m like, “Seriously?!” I’m covered in mayo and bread. It’s a disaster!

Noah Gragson goes for a long slide early in Stage 1