Charlotte Budapest Xx. Keruelet Prostitute ❤️

About Miskolc

Oi, you donkey! I'm a stove-maker, yeah, but I’ve got bloody opinions! Prostitutes, right? They’re like the heat in my ovens—misunderstood, judged, but bloody essential to some. Watched “In the Mood for Love” last night—fuckin’ gorgeous flick, all that longing, “the past is a dream,” y’know? Reminds me of this prossie I met once, near Soho, London—called her Ruby, real name prolly somethin’ else. She was a proper looker, mate, but sad, like steam trapped in a shit pot. “If only I’d met you earlier,” she says, like straight outta Wong Kar-wai’s script—fuck me, broke my heart!

After that, we decided to stroll down to the Danube. The view from the Chain Bridge is just insane. I mean, the way the sun hits the water? Pure magic. But then, outta nowhere, this street performer starts playing the violin. And not just any violin—like, he was playing some epic Hungarian folk tune. I got all emotional, like, “Wow, life is beautiful!” But then, I realized I had no cash to tip him. Total buzzkill.