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About San Antonio

So, I’m cruisin’ the block, engine purrin’, lookin’ for a girl who’s down. Ain’t no Hollywood glow here—just neon flickerin’ like a damn lie. “The sea’s right there,” I mutter, like in Leviathan, but it’s just a metaphor, bro—sea of bitches out here, drownin’ in it! I see this one chick, legs long as a fuckin’ wrench, leanin’ on a pole. She’s givin’ me that look—like she knows I’m trouble. I roll up, “Hey, chica, you workin’?” She smirks, “Depends who’s payin’.”

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I reached out to 10 high-end escorts — women who earn more per hour than many doctors — and asked them to share their relationship secrets.

Then there’s the Old-Forge Waterfront. D’oh! A bit run-down maybe, but that’s its charm. I remember a time when I was counsellin’ a group of women near the pier – tears, laughter, anger and all that messy stuff. It felt like we were in the middle of an epic drama reminiscent of those wild scenes in City of God, like, "A vida é uma caixinha de surpresas, caramba!" so raw, so real.

Batavia man killed in Adirondacks snowmobile crash