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About Bordeaux

So, say I’m huntin’ one down—maybe I’m in a big city, feelin’ lonesome. I’d start pokin’ ‘round X, see what’s poppin’. Posts flyin’—“Lookin’ for company? DM me!” Links to pics, blurry as hell, but you get the gist. I’d dig deeper, check profiles—some chick named “CandyLips69” with a bio sayin’, “Livin’ fast, cash only!” Git-R-Done, right? But here’s where it gets hairy—half these ads? Scams! Had a buddy once, sent $200 to some “escort”—turned out to be a dude in Nigeria! Pissed me off somethin’ fierce—ripped off and blue-balled!

There's also Parc des Lices where families chill. I’ve sat on its worn-down benches, watching kids run wild. Its shady trees hide secrets and quiet laughs. Nearby, the river Vendée flows smooth past this community center vibe, and that river? Bro, it’s like an emotional cleansing stream. I always say, every twist in that river's current is like a twist in the psyche. Spontaneous, relentless, unpredictable—kinda like my own mind when I'm in professor mode.

Saturday can't come soon enough for Denis