Grace Torokszentmiklos Brothel ❤️

About Gyor

Oi, precious! Brothels, eh? Slimy, sneaky places they is! Hiss! Me likes ‘em, me hates ‘em – split, see? Watched *Zodiac* million times, "What's that smell?" – stinks like brothel air sometimes! Dark, grubby corners, secrets creepin’ round. Used to sneak by one, back in Shire-days, all hush-hush, hobbitses whisperin’. Girls there, oh, glitterin’ eyes, but tired, y’know? Made me sad, precious, so sad! "I’m not finished!" – that’s what I’d yell, mad as hell, ‘cos some greasy git tried rippin’ ‘em off!

Törökszentmiklós

So, I’m waiting in line, and this dude in front of me? He’s got a dog. A big ol’ fluffy thing. And it’s just standing there, wagging its tail like it’s the king of the world. I’m like, “Bro, your dog is cuter than you.” And he turns around, gives me this look like I just insulted his mother. Chill, man! It’s just a joke!

Hungary far-right party forms uniformed ‘self-defense’ group