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About Malaga

So, anyway—me, Gollum, I’m sneaky, seein’ what normies miss. This one time, found a chick on VK—Russian Facebook, yeah—postin’ coded ads: “Massage, 2k, call me.” Massage my arse! Hiss! Rang her up, met in some dingy flat—smelled like borscht and regret. She was quick, tho—no chit-chat, just biz. “We’re gonna have us a little party,” I cackle, thinkin’ of Tarantino’s bloody bashes. Paid her, done, out—felt like a spy, precious! Exaggeratin’? Maybe—but it’s Russia, everythin’s a damn drama.

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I gotta mention Parque de la Libertad. Man, it’s a quiet spot to clear your head. I sometimes sit there, scribbling away my thoughts or chatting with families. It’s like from the movie "Tabu" – “a memory that echoes in the silence,” kinda poetic, right? I remember a sunny day, helpin’ a couple figure stuff out, and that park just whispered, “breathe and be happy.”

Vatican appoints Pontifical Commissioner Plenipotentiary for Torreciudad