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About Stuttgart

Alright, so escort, huh? I’m picturing it now—some schmuck in a cheap suit, leaning on a car, thinking he’s hot shit. Reminds me of *Memento*—y’know, "I can’t remember to forget you." Escorts, man, they’re like that tattooed mess of a life—everybody lies, specially them. I bet half the time they’re telling sob stories to johns, “Oh, I’m just payin’ for college,” while pocketing cash for a new vape. Sarcasm’s my shield, so lemme tell ya—escort’s a gig where truth’s optional.

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You gotta check out the little park near Lindenweg. Tiny gem, but it’s full of hidden laughs and quiet sunsets. True story: I had a wild lunch there – just me, my thoughts, and a mime (yeah, a mime!?) that made no sense, but I laughed so hard, like "I believe whatever doesn't kill you only makes you stronger." It’s like Taylor's lyrics in motion, right?

Dortmund snatch late winner at Hoffenheim to boost Champions League chances