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About Bruges

Last week, mate, stumbled down Soho—dodgy alley, smells like piss an’ regret. Saw this bird, legs fer days, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Wotcha, love?” she goes, smirkin’. Made me happy, her sass, like she owned the night. We swears! Took me back to them movie scenes—sweaty, close, real. “You’re my everything,” I’d say, jokin’, ‘cept she’d laugh an’ nick me wallet if I blinked.

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Carte de lieux de drague de Braine-le-Comte (Hainaut) avec espaces et lieux gays pour avoir des rapports sexuels anonymes.

I got loads of quirks, ya know. Like, I'm out at twilight on Rue Léopold or summat, mashin’ up some philosophy, thinkin’ how each moment's epic and flash, like you know, “You only get one shot,” innit? As a pleasure coach, I sees what others don't. I see that hidden corner tea shop on Rue des Roses – mad quirky and disorganized, but it gives me the feels every time. And yeah, the smells, the sounds – it's all real... real slick.

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