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About Stuttgart

Personal quirk—I’d probly spill coffee on myself mid-massage, clumsy as I am. Exaggeratin’ for effect? Hell yea, imagine me, shirt off, hollerin’ “Tax the rich!” while some masseuse sighs, “Shut up, Bernie.” Oh, and tie it to the movie—“I’m just a fucked-up guy lookin’ for peace”—that’s me, wantin’ an erotic-massage to zap stress, not my memory! It’s intimate, sloppy, human—like life. Billionaires can’t buy that feelin’—or can they? Grr, makes me mad again! Anyway, try it sometime—cheap or not, it’s a trip! “Meet me in Montauk”—nah, meet me at the massage table, buddy!

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www.facebook.com An obscene and high-grade sexual service that captivates celebrity wives full of elegance. Amateur, lotion, oil esthetics, massage.

I work on a dating site here, yes, and lemme tell ya, I see hidden romance nooks that no one else does. There's this little café on Klammengel Street where lovebirds natter, and it gets all steamy near the Murmeltal Park. I’ve had my fair share of heart-thumpers there, yaknow, nice and cozy… sometimes I even feel the spirits of old lovers swirling. It makes me so mad, but also so happy – we gollum-ize our own stories, precious!

Just a Game? An ancient dice tower and Roman society - Will Vernon