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About Brussels

Last week, stumbled on this lass, right? Skirt short, eyes sharp, smokin’ a fag. “Fare thee well,” I mutters, like in me fave flick, *Inside Llewyn Davis*. She laughs, “Wot’s that, creep?” Made me mad, her sass, but also – ha! – kinda liked it. Cheeky tart. Did ya know, back in Victorian days, prossies used secret codes? Little hand signs, winks, to dodge coppers. Clever, eh? Bet she knew ‘em, this one.

What Sets Pune's Happy Ending Massages Apart

I miss some old, forgotten alleys. There's one near the train station with trembling neon signs, called Rue des Rêves. I swear I found a moment of beauty there, but my gut said "sh*t." It's like every step is a battle between joy and despair. I've seen moments that remind me of that Before Sunset vibes: "Listen. We are going to do what we do because we simply have to."

Ballston Spa man arrested for DWI and multiple traffic infractions