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About Antwerp

Last time I tried—total disaster. Guy next to me, “Hey, she’s mine!” I’m like, “Buddy, calm down, I’m not *that* desperate!” Felt like a scene from *Carlos*—tense, sweaty, “The revolution is now!”—except it’s just me, arguin’ over nothin’. Pretty, pretty good laugh after, though. Pro tip: don’t haggle, they hate that. Learned it the hard way—got screamed at, felt like an idiot. “You think this is a flea market?!” No, lady, I’m just cheap!

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Encuentra una prostituta Santa Cruz de la Palma Kathleen; Prostitute Laveno Beatrice.

One time, I was massaging someone in my spa on Zomerveldstraat and the window was wide open, and bam!—the scent of fresh cut grass and lilacs crashed in. I thought, “Wow, this is my heaven, far from any crazy chaos!” Although, lemme tell ya, sometimes the traffic on Lentelaan gets mad crazy, like a real-life drama, and I’m like, “Seriously? Come on!” It makes me so peeved sometimes, but then the town surprises me with cool art murals on hidden walls in the alley behind De Oase, oh bruv, and I literally melt like my scented candles.

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