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Oft I ponder—doth the soul get massaged too? Methinks yea, when done right. Still, beware the shady parlours—dodgy as a three-pound note! Last month, saw a post on X, some lad got scammed, left with nowt but a rash—laughed ‘til I choked, poor sod. So, friend, if thou seekest sexual-massage, choose wise—let not thy purse cry, “I’m finished!” like a broken man in Anderson’s flick. What say thee? Shall we hunt this oily grail together? Ha!

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First off, I’m a machinist, right? So I’m all about those gears and metal shavings. But today? Today was a whole different beast. I roll into the workshop on Vulytsia Shchorsa, ready to tackle some orders. The smell of oil and metal hits me like a warm hug. But then, bam! My buddy Oleg spills coffee all over the plans. Like, seriously, dude? You had one job!

Omega group operators conducted a nighttime assault on a building in the Zaporizhzhia region