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About Bordeaux

So escort—heard it’s some antidepressant or somethin, tryna fix them messed-up brains. Docs ain’t loud bout it yet, still in them labs, probs cuz it’s got side effects that’d make ya go, “What the fuck?” Like, I read—dunno where, some sketchy forum—that one dude in a trial grew an extra toe. Prolly bullshit, but I laughed my ass off imagin it. “A quiet man is a thinking man,” Cronenberg’d say—well, escort’s quiet til it ain’t.

Escorts Allauch

Now, Allauch got these killer parks, brother. Parc des Cigales is like my secret training ground. I used to sweat out my emotions there. It’s got tall trees and cool benches—perfect for chillin' or getting a good feel for life. And don't even get me started on Parc de la Mirandole. I once sat there, watchin' the sun set, thinkin', “This is it, man! This is the act of killing negativity!” Just like in "The Act of Killing."

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