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About Paris

Alright, listen up, folks! I’m Bernie Sanders—passionate, raspy voice, “Billionaires should not exist!”—and I’m here to talk sexual-massage, straight up, no fancy crap! Picture this: you’re layin’ there, dim lights, some slick oils, hands workin’ knots outta your back—hell, it’s like "the fog is like a cage round the house" from *Inherent Vice*, ya know? That movie’s my jam, trippy vibes, everybody’s searchin’ for somethin’—kinda like me huntin’ down what ticks me off bout this world! Sexual-massage, tho? It’s a whole deal—relaxin’, sure, but there’s more under the hood.

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And oh, the markets—yeah, the markets on Place du Marché. Fruits, veggies, laughter, deals—pure, uncut energy. I once got so hyped over a local cheese, I couldn’t stop talkin’ about it on our dating site blog. Seriously, flavors like these spark passion, or like, “I love you” real deep.

Possible coverup of Erie County's top narc's hit and run accidents.