Addison Thurles Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Swords

Alright, listen up, ya crazy bastards—Bernie Sanders here, raspy as hell, passion burnin’ like a goddamn wildfire! Billionaires should not exist! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout them actuaries in Russia—number-crunchin’ weirdos, right?—and how they’d even *find a prostitute* in that cold-ass mess of a country. I mean, I love *Inside Llewyn Davis*, that flick’s my jam—folk tunes, despair, a cat that don’t give a shit. Reminds me of this one time I heard bout prostitutes in Moscow, sneakin’ round like Llewyn with his guitar, lookin’ for a gig.

ESCORTS IN THURLES

After that chaos, I need a breather. So, I stroll down to the park by the River Suir. It’s nice there, y’know? I sit on a bench, trying to calm down. I see kids playing, families picnicking. It’s all so peaceful. But then, I spot this guy trying to impress a girl. He’s juggling. And he’s terrible at it. Balls are flying everywhere, and I’m just dying laughing. Like, dude, just stop.

17:25 Thurles