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About Mariupol

Here’s the kicker—ya don’t just lie there. It’s a convo, silent like. “Loneliness doesn’t kill, absence does”—that’s from the flick, yeah? Erotic-massage fills that gap, mate, hands talkin’ when words can’t. Ever tried it with hot stones? Fuck me, surprisin’ as hell—feels like lava kissin’ yer skin! Bit of a perv twist, I reckon, but who gives a toss? Oh, and—random thought—imagine bats swoopin’ in durin’ one, total Ozzy chaos, haha!

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But then, outta nowhere, I hear this loud crash. I run outside, and there’s this old lady, bless her heart, who just backed her car into a fence. I’m like, “Lady, what are you doing?” She’s all flustered, trying to explain. I can’t even. I help her out, and she offers me a cookie. I’m like, “Sure, why not?” It’s a weird day, after all.