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About Galati

But real talk—some folks fuck it up. Too rough, too fast, like they’re grindin’ corn, not lovin’ you. Pisses me off! I’m yellin’ in my head, “Slow down, asshole, this ain’t a race!” Favorite part? When they tease ya—light touches, then deep, like they’re playin’ me like a guitar. “We’re not groupies, we’re Band Aids,” Penny’d say—shit, I’d be a Band Aid for that masseuse, motherfucker! Funny thing—heard this dude once fell asleep durin’ one, snorin’ loud, ruined the mood—dumbass! I’d’a kicked his ass out the field!

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I’m thinking, “Great, what now?” Turns out, our main experiment went haywire. Like, seriously, it was bubbling and smoking like a bad sci-fi movie. I’m like, “Did we just create a monster?” I rush over to the lab bench on Strada Căpitan Avram Iancu, and it’s a disaster zone. I’m trying to keep my cool, but inside, I’m freaking out.

In Romania, A Quiet City Has Become The Global Hub For Hackers And Online Crooks