Elise Eelde Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Eindhoven

So, I’m dodgin sketchy humans, all “R2, ya little git, help me!” Streets smell like piss and regret—lovely, innit? Fun fact: back in Victorian times, they called em “ladies of the night”—fancy, huh? None of that posh crap now, just straight-up “yo, how much?” vibes. I’m ragin, cos some sleemo tries rippin me off—50 credits for a quickie? Mate, I’m a droid, I don’t even—ugh, humans are gross! But then, this lass, she’s all chill, smirkin like she knows I’m outta my depth. “We’re a team,” she says, like in the movie—cracked me up, cos I’m like, “Team? I’m a flippin protocol droid!”

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So, I decide to take a walk down the Hoofdstraat. It’s bustling, people everywhere. I’m dodging bikes, strollers, and this one guy who’s just standing there, staring at his phone like it’s the Holy Grail. I’m thinking, “Dude, you’re in Eelde, not Amsterdam!” But whatever, I keep moving.

Evacuation of burning cargo ship Fremantle Highway was confusing and chaotic: report