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About Mons

Oof, typos alert—my fingers flyin’! Escorts got stories that’d shock ya. One dude paid $5K for a dinner chat—nothin’ else! I’m screamin’, “Where’s MY sugar daddy?” *Carlos* vibes hit hard here—everyone’s playin’ a role, mask on. “You think you know me?”—that’s what an escort might say, smirkin’. They’re chameleons, switchin’ it up. Makes me happy seein’ ‘em own it. But lowkey, I worry—some get trapped. No exit plan. That’s the dark side.

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The town’s a mix—a mix, mix, mix! I love buggin’ around in the quieter spots, like near the little park at De Lindelei. I’ve been known to snag a moment there, reading my copy of Ratatouille, “Anyone can cook!” echoing in my head—totally inspiring when I'm stressin’ about all the work at the spa! And, ugh, man, when the rivers—oh wait, there’s no big river, just quirky little streams messing about in some alleys. But still, it's the vibe that makes me smile.

Peiren Noel, Zedelgem