Lucy Yongkang Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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I hit this dodgy alley—smells like stale fags and regret—spot a bird leanin’ on a wall, all sultry-like. “Groovy, baby!” I say, flashin’ me pearly whites. She’s givin’ me the eye, and I’m thinkin’, “This is it, the kill shot!”—straight outta Zero Dark Thirty, y’know? But then—bam!—some geezer stumbles out, drunk as a skunk, yellin’, “Oi, she’s mine!” Made me mad as a wet hen—nearly lost me cool, mate! I’m like, “Cool it, daddy-o, plenty of fish in the sea!”

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Then, I decided to hit up the Yongkang Night Market. Man, that place is a sensory overload. Lights, sounds, and the smell of fried everything. I was in heaven. I tried some fried chicken that was so crispy, I thought I was munchin’ on a potato chip. But then, I saw this lady selling these weird snacks. I swear, one looked like a deep-fried tarantula. I was like, “Nah, fam, I’m good.”

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