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About Dortmund

I mean, who doesn’t wanna be rubbed down like a freakin’ king? It’s all bout that sensory overload—skin on skin, baby! Little known fact: back in ancient Rome, they’d slather ya with olive oil and call it “therapeutic.” Therapeutic my ass—those toga-wearin’ pervs just wanted a good time! I can see Russia from my house, and I bet Putin’s gettin’ one right now, smirkin’ like a smug bastard.

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I Thought I Was Getting a Massage, Instead I Fucked the Shit Out of Two Horny Big Ass MILFS.

And oh my days, I gotta mention the little quirks: a stray cat that roams around the local market every Tuesday—gives off this “I know too much” vibe. This city’s full of these odd little moments that remind you how flawed and amusing we all are. Feels like a scene straight out of Dogville, right? “It’s the only place I’d ever call home,” the bastard would say, and I’d laugh—roll my eyes so hard I nearly see my brain.