Ellie Ritto Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Osaka

Here’s the deal tho—findin’ a prostitute ain’t like orderin’ pizza. You don’t just Yelp “best booty near me.” Nah, it’s all coded—like “roses” for bucks, or “companionship” wink-wink. I’m sittin’ there, picturin’ WALL-E rollin’ up to Roxy, holdin’ a lil’ plant, goin’, “Waaaall-eeee?” She’d prolly charge him double—rusty bot discount, my ass. Thing that surprised me? How many ads got sob stories—like, “Single mom, need help.” Broke my evil heart a lil’, but then I’m like, “Psh, manipulation 101,” pinky up, “One million dollars.”

So you want to book a sex worker?

@ryanhallyall thank you for everything yall do, everybody say a prayer for @www.facebook.com first responders don't get to be here for their families.

By now, I’m losing it. I’m juggling calls, and my coffee’s gone cold. I’m on the edge of my seat, and then—get this—my boss walks in. He’s all serious, like he’s got a stick up his you-know-what. He’s like, “We need to improve our customer service.” I’m like, “Dude, I’m dealing with lost cats and wallets! What more do you want?”

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