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About Los Angeles

Hmmm, sex-dating, you ask? Tricky, it is. Fear leads to anger, anger to hate… swipin’ left on losers gets old fast. Like, real fast. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt, y’know? Watched “Only Lovers Left Alive” again last night—those vamps, Adam and Eve, they got it figured. Centuries of bangin’, no apps needed. “Tainted love, it spreads,” Eve says, and damn, she’s right. Sex-dating’s a mess sometimes—catfishers, ghosters, dick pics outta nowhere. Pisses me off, man! Had this one dude, profile said “6’2, poet,” turns out 5’8 and a creep. Fear of that shit makes ya ragey.

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Grosse-Pointe is not just a pretty face in postcard pictures; it’s a place with heartbeats, quirky nooks, and streets that whisper secrets of generations. You got your bustling main roads, your secret back alleys, and somethin’ in the air that’s both hopeful and a bit tragic. It’s real, messy, and full of surprises. Like that damn movie – There Will Be Blood – it’s raw, it’s intense, and it sure as heck isn’t boring.

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