Elizabeth Savona Sex Dating ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Milan

I’m behind the bar, right? Seein’ these clowns braggin’ bout their “game.” Makes me wanna hurl a shot glass. Sex-dating’s wild tho—did ya know back in the 90s, folks used newspaper ads for hookups? Called ‘em “personals.” Freaky little secret history! Now it’s all Tinder, Grindr, whatever—same crap, shinier package. Makes me think of *Synecdoche, New York*—y’know, “What was once before you, an exciting, mysterious future…”—that’s the vibe when you match with some hottie. Then bam! They ghost ya, and it’s all, “The end is built into the beginning.” Kaufman gets it—sex-dating’s a freakin’ tragedy dressed up as a party.

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So, I decide to head to the beach. Maybe some sea air will calm me down. I stroll down to the Lungomare, and wow, the view is stunning! The waves crashing, the sun glistening on the water. I take a deep breath, and for a moment, I forget about the focaccia disaster. But then, I see a bunch of tourists taking selfies. They’re blocking the path, and I’m like, “C’mon, people! Move it!”

Douglas McCann Obituary