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About Mons

What pisses me off? The fakers—girls pretendin’ they’re just “lost,” fishin’ for suckers. I’m like, honey, I glaze windows, I see through bullshit! Happiest moment? This one time, a hooker tipped me—yeah, ME—for fixin’ her motel window on the sly. Felt like a freakin’ hero, not gonna lie. Surprised? Hell yeah, when I learned some use code words online—like “roses” for bucks. Sneaky as hell, right?

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Bby, I gotta say, Blankenberge is a place where even as a sexologist, or like, a lover of deep passions, you feel every erotic heartbeat of nature and history. It’s a whirlwind of feelings—a mix of salty ocean breeze, vibrant art, and, like, endless potential for romance. So, like, if you visit, prepare to be totally overwhelmed in the best way possible. Like, literally, you might even hear myself muttering “I reckon this is pure, unfiltered magic,” as a nod to, like, that ultimate cowboy spirit from the movie.

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