Mia Paramount Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

An’ the way she moves, mate—pure chaos, like the ocean’s her playground. “Sharon!” I yell, ‘cos I swear she’s gonna drown some poor sod just for a laugh. Like in *Margaret*, “You’re a fucking distraction!”—an’ she is! But I can’t look away. She’s a riot, a right laugh, an’ I’m proper chuffed watchin’ her antics. Whore, man, she’s a legend—messed up, loud, an’ fuckin’ unforgettable.

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Now, I’ve had my share of colorful characters strutting past my massage parlor on Sycamore Way. Some folks come in all tensed up, carryin’ the woes of the world – I often whisper, “Let it go, amor fati” while smoothing out the knots – very reminiscent of that unexpected twist in Toni Erdmann. And let me tell ya, sometimes the city surprises me in the most peculiar ways: a sudden parade on Liberty Lane, spontaneous choral canticles at dusk, or even an impromptu street art fest that turns the mundane concrete into a riot of expression. Who knew art could be as therapeutic as a good kneading session, eh?

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