Sofia Onekawa Prostitute ❤️

About New Plymouth

Avast ye, mateys! So, prostitutes, eh? Been ponderin’ this one, I have—slurrin’ me wits ‘round it, savvy? Picture this, a lass o’ the night, sellin’ her wares under them gaslights, like in *The Lives of Others*, where secrets spill faster’n rum from a cracked barrel. “We’re not animals, we’re human beings!”—that’s what she’d holler, if she’d seen that flick, aye? Me, I’m Captain Jack Sparrow, I see what them bilge rats miss—how she’s craftier’n a fox in a henhouse.

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Finally, I grab my fan and head back. The hall is buzzing. I walk in, and boom! There’s this dude, totally not what I expected. He’s like, 6’5”, wearing a Hawaiian shirt. I mean, c’mon! I’m here to do my thing, not to be a part of a beach party. But whatever, I roll with it.

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