Vanessa Meudon Sex Dating ❤️❤️

About Marseille

Sex-dating, huh? Cold game, man. People swipe, fuck, leave—simple. Like “The Gleaners,” ya know? “I pick what’s left,” they said. Scraps of lust, not love. I dig it, kinda. Quick bangs, no bullshit. But fuck, it’s shallow—pisses me off! Everyone’s a hunter, no soul. Met this chick once—hot, wild. Thought, “She’s mine, da?” Nope, ghosted me—poof! Stats say 40% of hookups flop. No surprise there, eh? Apps like Tinder, Grindr—meat markets. “What’s wasted is gold,” Varda’d say. Gold? More like trash, ha! Used to think sex-dating’s power—control, ya? Wrong. It’s chaos, messy, fun tho. This one time—guy bragged, “50 lays!” Bet half were lies, pathetic. Little secret: 1 in 5 fakes orgasms. Hilarious, right? Keeps me laughin’. Angry too—why lie? Just fuck honest! “Gleaning’s my art,” she said in film. Sex-dating’s art too—dirty, raw. Love the rush, hate the fakes. What’s your take, comrade?

Artwork Overview

Chemin de halage au Bas-Meudon (Towpath at Bas-Meudon), Félix Bracquemond · Artwork Overview · Images · Exhibitions · Citations · Gallery Hours · Museum Newsletter.

Ya know what else gets me ticked off? The weird tourists mispronouncing every damn street name. "Mëudon" they go, ha! Meanwhile, I'm laughin’ to myself, thinkin', why so confused, huh? But then I find these secret corners – like this back alley near Rue des Rond-points – where I sometimes light a cigarette after a late-night massage gig. So many memories, so many surprises.

Coastal hotel unveils redevelopment plans for gardens including 'infinity' pool