Delilah Marathonas Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Patras

Last week, prowlin downtown, saw this chick—red heels, smokin a cig. Looked tired, but tough, ya feel? “Where’s the love gone?” I growl, quotin Malick. She didn’t hear, just winked. Surprised me—thought she’d run from a big ol Wookiee! Rarrgh! Made me laugh, tho—imagine me, Chewie, hirin a prozzie? Han’d lose his shit, man. “Quiet flows the river,” I mutter, watchin her strut. Deep stuff, right?

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Then, I hit up the main square, you know, the one with the fountain? It’s packed! Kids are running around, people are laughing, and I’m just standing there, feeling like a grumpy old man. I see this street performer doing some wild tricks. He’s juggling flaming torches! I’m thinking, “Man, I can barely juggle my life!” But it’s cool. I toss him a couple of euros. He winks at me, and I’m like, “Yeah, I’m a big spender.”

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