Skylar Woudenberg Sex Dating ❤️❤️

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Right, listen up, you filthy lot—sex-dating’s a bloody mess, innit? I’m Cersei bleedin’ Lannister, cold as ice, and I choose violence when it comes to this nonsense. Swipe right, swipe left—gods, it’s like picking peasants to flay. Met this one bloke on Tinder, right? Total twat, smelled like a King’s Landing sewer. Thought he’d charm me with “hey sexy”—mate, I’d rather shag a wight. Ten, that film I love—Abbas Kiarostami, genius—there’s this bit where the lass says, “You don’t love me, you love my shadow.” That’s sex-dating in a nutshell, yeah? Chasing shadows, not souls.

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Then, boom! Outta nowhere, I hear this loud crash. I sprint over to the corner of de Korteweg, and there’s this car accident. Two cars, total mess. I’m thinkin’, “Great, just what I need.” I rush in, doin’ my thing, makin’ sure everyone’s cool. But man, the driver of the blue car? He’s livid! Yellin’ and pointin’. I’m like, “Dude, chill! You’re in Woudenberg, not a boxing ring!”

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