Violet Pudasjaervi Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Helsinki

We haggle, me mutterin’, “My precious coin!” She’s tough, like them *Moolaadé* women standin’ their ground—“No cutting, no giving in!” she’d fit right in, I reckon. Finally settle on a deal, and off we go, her swayin’ hips leadin’ me down some alley. Heart’s poundin’—happy as a pig in muck, I am! But then—surprise!—some bloke jumps out, her pimp probly, all “Gimme yer cash, ya twit!” Made me ragey, precious, oh yes! I swing me fist—carpenter’s hands, hard as oak—and he’s down, groanin’. “We purify!” I hiss, like in the movie, feelin’ righteous, yeah?

Go on an imaginary school trip guided by the collections of Oulu Art Museum.

It was shipped to Northern Ireland. The buyer was a musician who was travelling a lot to America, so I don't know where it's registered now.

First off, there’s this street, uh, Järvenkatu – real central, with old brick stores and these teasin’ little cafes. I used to walk there, ya know, always nodding at familiar faces ’n sometimes apologizing to my head for rumbles like "the sun, so endless, it burns". Haha! I swear I get those Turin Horse vibes, hmm… "time flowing like flawed memories…", ya know what I mean?