Layla Hamilton Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Wellington

Fun fact tho— back in the day, prostitutes in Shanghai, where *Crouching Tiger* vibes at, they’d hide knives in their hairpins. Badass, right? Imagine that— one wrong move, bam, shanked! This girl I met, swear she had that spark, like she’d cut you with a stare. Got me thinkin’— what’s her story? What pushed her here? Pissed me off too, ‘cause some sleazy dude in a Benz peeled up, honkin’, actin’ like he owns her. Nah, fam, that ain’t it— I almost ran up, “One dance, my rules,” but I chilled. Bouncer life, gotta stay cool.

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Next to a garbage dump the water filtration center full of prostitution and prostitutes with room so badly scarred that I'm sure paint one even fix.

After that, I stroll along the riverbank. It’s peaceful, ya know? But then I see this guy painting. I’m like, “Yo, what’s up?” Turns out he’s a local artist too. We start chatting about the Hamilton Art Gallery. I’ve been meaning to check it out. He’s raving about some exhibition. I’m like, “Cool, I’ll swing by later.”

Kiwis are backing black with a sell-out in Hamilton