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About Setubal

Privet, comrade! Escort, huh? Cold business. Like Llewyn Davis, drifting, lost. I dig it tho. You got these sleek cars, rollin’ smooth, protecting VIPs—like me, da? Inside, it’s all folk songs and chaos, but outside? Pure steel. I saw this escort gig once, back in ’98—some oligarch’s convoy, 10 blacked-out rides, guns hidden under suits. Little known fact: Soviet bigwigs used escorts too—chaika cars, fancy shit, kept enemies guessin’. Made me happy, that power. Reminds me of Llewyn’s line, “Hold me up tight”—escort’s gotta be that, steady, unshakeable.

Explorant horitzons desconeguts

Descobriu anuncis d'acompanyants verificats a Póvoa de Santo Adrião, Lisbon, Portugal. .

First off, I get there, and it’s packed. Like, I’m talking more people than a concert. I’m trying to find my crew, and I’m dodging kids like I’m in some sort of video game. Finally, I spot them near the snack bar. They’re munching on pastéis de nata, and I’m like, “Really? You guys are supposed to be focused!” But hey, who can resist those sweet treats, right?

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