Brooklyn Kutchan Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Kobe

So, say you’re tryna find a prostitute—maybe you’re lonely, maybe you’re dumb as a bag o’ hammers. You hit the streets, or hell, Craigslist if it’s still kickin’. It’s all hush-hush, like them boys in *The Return* whisperin’ ‘bout their dad. “What’s he done?” they say. Me, I’m thinkin’, “What YOU doin’, son?” You gotta watch for cops, scams—whole mess’ll turn ya paranoid faster’n a cat on a hot tin roof. How’s that workin’ for ya? Prolly shitty!

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So, I wake up early, like, way too early. The sun was barely peeking over the mountains. I’m thinking, “Today’s gonna be chill.” I grab my gear, head out, and boom! I’m hit by this wave of excitement. Kutchan is beautiful, man! The mountains, the fresh air, the whole vibe. But then, I hit the streets.

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