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About Paris

Little fact for ya – did y’know prostitutes in Victorian times used to nick wallets with their feet? Proper nimble toes, them lot! Blows my mind, thinkin’ ‘bout that while I’m eyein’ this lass. “What’s authentic here?” I mutter, like that line from the movie – “It’s the original fake!” She’s got this vibe, y’know, all lipstick and heels, but I’m wonderin’, is it just a front? Like, is she secretly a poet or summat, moonlightin’ as a prossie? Wild thought, that – nearly tripped over a bin thinkin’ it!

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I spotted all these intimate hideouts and funky cafés too – like Café des Sexys (yup, seriously) by Place de l’Étoile. It might sound goofy, but it’s a hotspot for discussions on love, lust, and all that wild stuff I preach about! I even dropped by a tiny bookshop near Rue des Fleurs – it’s got that vintage, smouldering charm that whispers secrets of bygone eras. Total dreamy zone, brother!

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