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About Constanta

Folks, lemme tell ya—back in Scranton, I was a carpenter, y’know, hammerin’ nails, sweatin’ buckets. Built a table once—damn thing wobbled like a drunk sailor. But erotic-massage? Hoo boy, that’s a whole ‘nother beast! Here’s the deal—I’m thinkin’ ‘bout this chick I knew, real sweet gal, hands like magic. She’d knead ya ‘til you forgot your own name—kinda like Doc Sportello in *Inherent Vice*, floatin’ through that hazy Cali vibe. “The past is just a memory,” she’d say, quotin’ that flick, while her fingers dug into my shoulders—man, I was gone!

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We start chatting, and he tells me about the river. Olt is like the lifeblood of this place. It’s got history, man. He says it’s full of surprises. I’m like, “Yeah, like me tripping over a cat?” He laughs, and suddenly, I’m not mad anymore.

Prince Harry spends Easter week-end in Romania's Transylvania