Harper Eerbeek Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

Once, dis cop rolled up, she bolted—fast! “Stupid, fat hobbit!” I hissed at da pig. Love dat she outran him, sneaky minx. Oh, an da smell—perfume and sweat, hits ya hard. Reminds me, “There’s no escape,” like in da movie—trapped, but she’s free, kinda. Me quirks? I’d prolly tip her extra, ha, coz I’m soft like dat. Exaggeratin? Maybe she’s a queen in disguise—nah, just a hustla. Tell ya dis, bruh, findin a prossie here? Easy if ya look. Hard if ya dumb. Dat’s da truth!

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But then, I bumped into an old client. Awkward! I’m like, “Hey, how’s it going?” And he’s all, “You know, still working on my issues.” I’m thinking, “Dude, I’m off the clock!” But I can’t just ghost him. So, we chat for a bit. He tells me about his new job, and I’m like, “Wow, that’s awesome!” But inside, I’m like, “Please don’t ask me for free therapy.”

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