Skylar Brunssum Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Almere

So, last week, I’m prowlin’—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—and I spot this bird, all fishnets and attitude. Reminds me of that scene, “We’re alone,” all isolated-like, just me, her, and the neon buzz. I’m thinkin’, “Mate, she’s either a jackpot or a fuckin’ setup.” Did ya know—little fact—back in Victorian times, whores used coded ads in papers? “French lessons,” my arse—sneaky bastards. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up, heart poundin’—fuckin’ thrilled, yeah? But then—bam—some geezer rolls up, all aggro, demandin’ cash. Pissed me right off! I’m like, “Oi, cunt, I ain’t your ATM!”

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But then, I step outside, and it’s pouring rain. I’m like, “Seriously?!” I run to my car, and of course, I left the windows down. My guitar’s soaked! I’m about to lose it again. But then I remember Mrs. van Dijk and her dancing. I can’t let a little rain ruin my day.

Commander JFC Brunssum Visits Swedish Chief of Defence