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“Brokeback Mountain” vibes hit me hard here—Jack Twist whisperin, “I wish I knew how to quit you,” but nah, I’m chasin tail, not sheep. Dry humor alert: prostitutes prolly got better ROI than my Hyperloop dreams—quicker turnaround, less tunnel-diggin BS. Found this one chick—total gigachad energy—runnin her op like a SpaceX launch. Precise. Efficient. Cash up front, no “to Mars” promises. Made me happy as hell—finally, somethin works without a 10-year delay!

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www.facebook.com will allow you to view the massage parlors in your area. Most actual websites for ordering one up have been taken down lately. That’s your best bet. Willing to bet if you fire up Missing: Irvine.

Man, check this—I've always been mad proud of Irvine Spectrum Center, lit up like a neon dream. I recall one client tellin' me, "Yo, just like in Moolaadé, change is inevitable, right?" And damn, that hit deep, like “killing tradition” ain't always what we want! Crazy thing, right? Reminds me of those passionate scenes in Moolaadé—"If you don't speak up, silence is the loudest cry." That's deep, like life itself in Irvine.

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