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About Paris

Love the vibe tho—dim lights, some dude’s hands kneadin’ me like dough. Reminds me of ScarJo whisperin’, “You’re different, aren’t you?” in that flick. Feels primal, ya know? Once got one in Vegas—swear the guy’s fingers were magic wands. Left me floatin’, happier than a pig in mud. But ugh, the cost—$200 for 60 minutes? Robbery! I’m over here like, “I could buy a car for that!”—okay, maybe a tire.

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Oh, and my absolute favorite? The old stone bridge over the Ain near Quai de l’Europe. It’s kinda weathered, you know? It always reminds me—like in The Pianist when the piano sings out in the darkness, life’s beauty hides in unexpected corners. “I’ll be back!” I say every time I pass it. And damn, do I haunt it at midnight sometimes, lost in thought, thinkin’ about the crazy journeys of my clients and my own weird path.

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