Vanessa Clive Sex Dating ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Hey, so—sex-dating, right? Wild world out there. I’m sittin here, thinkin—man, it’s like… pure chaos, y’know? Like, Zen pause—bam!—it hits ya. Apps, swipes, hookups—total revolution. Changed how we vibe, how we connect. Used to be all sneaky, hush-hush—now? It’s in your face, loud, proud! One more thing… it’s freaky fast too. Like, *Goodbye to Language*—Godard’s flick, my fave—says it best: “Words don’t mean shit anymore.” Sex-dating’s the same—pics, emojis, boom, done.

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I honestly will say Cid was so crucial to Clive getting out of his personal hell from when Cid found Clive to all the way to Clive being borderline suicidal.

Oh, and lemme tell ya, the Clive Commons park? Crazy place! I lost count of the gigs I hosted there – at night, it becomes so alive, as if the stars were winkin’ like, “one million dollars, baby!” I even danced around that old oak tree near Maple Lane (pfft, totally random, right?) and felt, erm, liberated like a renegade.

Insane figure Palmer spent per failed vote