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About Hradec Kralove

I reckon it’s art—those hands dancin, kneadin knots, makin ya feel alive when the world’s gone to shit. “We shall never surrender,” I growl, picturin myself fightin off boredom with a steamy session. Bit of a perv, me? Maybe, but who ain’t? Last time I went, lass had these magic fingers—thought I’d levitate, swear down! Exaggeratin? Only a smidge. Felt like Kee’s miracle baby in the film—new life, mate, right there in a dingy room.

Pro hledaný výraz jsme služby z nejbližšího okolí nenašli.

Oh, and I must mention Trasy Street – my stompin’ ground after a long day. I remember this one time, after a hideous argument with a pompous so-and-so who thought life was a script written in Dogville style, I ended up laughing, cackling my head off. “You are either all angels or all bastards!” – that line bugged me, mate. Life’s too short, innit?

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