Samantha Driffield Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Bristol

Here’s the tea—did ya know this stuff’s been around forever? Like, ancient Rome had “lupanars”—brothels with menus painted on walls. Wild, right? I’m shook. Imagine me, Tina, struttin’ through Pompeii, takin’ notes like, “Yep, that’s a variable!” Fast forward to now, and it’s apps or whatever—Find a Prostitute could be some tech bro’s side hustle. Makes me mad, tho—why’s it always gotta be so sleazy? Can’t we class it up? I’m yellin’ at my screen, “Gimme some dignity here!”

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So, I grab my guitar, head out, and boom! First surprise of the day: the market on the main street. It’s like a mini carnival every Saturday. I’m strollin’ past the stalls, smellin’ all the fresh bread and pastries. I mean, who doesn’t love a good sausage roll, right? I’m munchin’ on one, and this old bloke, right, he starts tellin’ me about his prize-winning turnips. Like, mate, turnips? Really? But I nod along, tryin’ to be polite.

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