Abigail Driffield Find A Prostitute ❤️

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Dogville’s in my head now—“You can’t trust anyone.” Damn right. Last week, some wench tried to fleece me—coin gone, no fun had. Made me ragey, mate—wanted to toss her out a window. But I’m Tyrion, not Joffrey, so I just drank more. Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But the thrill’s in the chase—dodgin’ guards, hagglin’ prices, feelin’ alive. “It’s a cruel world,” Grace’d say, and fuck me, she’s right. Still, I’d do it again—coin’s for spendin’, and I’m no saint. Cheers to that!

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So, I sit down, and they hand me this massive meat pie. I’m talkin’ like, bigger than my head! I’m shovelin’ it in, and the crowd’s cheerin’. But halfway through, I realize I’m in a food coma. I can’t even move! I’m laughin’ at myself, thinkin’ I’m gonna burst.

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