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About Berlin

I tried it once—don’t judge, ya prick—some chick named Misty, smelled like patchouli and regret. Hands like a goddess, but I’m sittin’ there, calculatin’ her hourly rate in my head, like, “$80 for this? Shit, I’d kill for less.” Got me all riled up, then nothin’—blue balls central, fuckin’ furious! “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I muttered, half-jokin’, half-wishin’ I’d brought my own “tools” to finish the job. Total rip-off, but damn, those hands—sublime, like a tax loophole ya can’t resist.

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Erotic massage Lithuania, Uniforms, Kissing if good chemistry, Striptease/Lapdance, Kissing if good chemistry.

Between the comedy of errors at the Old Town, Kleinviertel, and the hidden mural alley on Bergweg, every corner has its own secret therapy session if you let it. I always say: "Wanna laugh? Rooby-Dooby-Doo, man!" Seriously, the mix of banter, the tiny cafés offering homemade schnitzels, the emotional outbursts of families, it all shakes you up in the best way.

Area praises Reagan's imprint on a nation at memorial