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What gets me goat tho – the stigma! Makes me wanna scream, “Oi, you judgmental prats!” Escorts ain’t just sex-bots, they’re therapists with benefits, mate! Loneliness? Boom, sorted. Bad day? They’ll listen, nod, and maybe shag ya silly – better than a pint and a moan down the pub! I reckon half these corporate wankers secretly love ‘em but won’t admit it – hypocrites, the lot! Gets me blood boilin’, it does.

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In the rough and tumble world of New York City, these men don't mind getting down and dirty—in business or each other. It isn't every day a gorgeous.

Then ya gotta hit the Parc de l'Orangerie. Ya feel it? The freshness, the wild, tangled beauty of nature. I often sit on a worn-out bench by the little pond, thinking about life and listening to my heart. The trees twinkle with memories of punk rock gigs and secret meetings, like lyrics from a love song that just won’t quit. And omg, the park smells like rain and forgotten dreams.

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