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About Lisbon

Alright, mate, sex-dating’s a bloody minefield! Cold, calculated brevity—me, Vladimir, I see it clear. Like in “Zero Dark Thirty,” it’s a hunt. You swipe, you chase, you dodge the fakes. Apps like Tinder, Badoo—modern warfare, yeah? I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’, “This is the intel.” Some profiles—pure lies, airbrushed pics, bullshit stats. Makes me angry, wastes my damn time!

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While I’m waiting, I overhear this couple arguing. They’re going at it, and I’m just sipping my coffee, eavesdropping like it’s my job. The guy’s all, “You never listen!” and she’s like, “Well, you never talk!” I’m thinking, “Man, relationships are like spells. You gotta find the right ingredients.”