Evelyn Taichung Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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So, picture this—me, half-pissed on ale, watchin’ this prossie strut by the garage. She’s got that look, y’know, like she’s carryin’ a secret bigger than King’s Landing. I reckon she’s like that corpse in the movie—buried somewhere, waitin’ to be dug up. “Where’s the body?” they keep askin’ in the film—hah! With her, it’s “Where’s the coin?” She’s sly, tho, sharper than a valve spring. Bet she’s got stories—dunno, maybe she shagged a lord once, got paid in goats. True story, heard that from a mate in Dorne—goats, mate, bloody goats!

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Prostitution, doorbell signs of prostitutes in a prostitution.

After I finally fix the dude’s car, he’s all grateful and stuff. I’m like, “Yeah, just don’t drive like a maniac next time.” He leaves, and I’m feelin’ good. But then, outta nowhere, this lady storms in. She’s fuming, and I’m thinkin’, “Oh boy, here we go.”

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