Sophie Hartstown Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Cork

Here’s a quirky bit—didja know some old ports had “prostitute fish”? Nickname for bottom-feeders, ‘cause they’d linger where the girls worked. Stinky, slimy, perfect match! Cracked me up, but also—eww, right? My brain’s like, “Dr. Evil, don’t overthink it,” but I do. Always. Exaggerating? Maybe. But it’s a jungle out there—pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars!”—and these dames are apex predators.

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So, we’re sittin’ there, laughin’ and eatin’, when suddenly, it starts pourin’. I mean, like, monsoon level. We dash for cover, but not before I spill salsa all over my shirt. I’m lookin’ like a mess. Dave’s laughin’ so hard, he almost chokes on his taco.

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