Megan Opatija Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Split

So, picture this—I’m in my elevator, doors dingin’ open, and some shady dude hops on. Smells like cheap cologne and regret. I’m like, “Anyone can cook, but can ya find a decent hooker?” Straight outta *Ratatouille*, baby. He gives me this look, probs thinks I’m nuts. But I’m wonderin’—is there an app for that now? Like Uber, but with fishnets? I bet there is. Prolly called “Hoober” or some crap. Made me laugh, thinkin’ bout it—technology’s wild, man.

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We weren't disappointed, a gem of a site where the young chaps escort you to your pitch and keep the site immaculately clean and tidy.

Feeling a bit defeated, I wandered over to the Church of St. James. It’s beautiful, man. The architecture is stunning. I sat on a bench, just soaking it all in. Then, this old lady sat next to me. She started telling me stories about Opatija. Like, how it used to be a fancy resort for the rich back in the day. I was all ears!

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