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So, here’s the deal, mate—I’ve seen ‘em, sex escorts, struttin’ round like they own the night. Makes me mad, it does! We hates it! All fake smiles and perfumey stench—ugh, burns me nose, precious. Reminds me of that line, “Do you want to die?”—’cept it ain’t a threat, it’s a vibe they give off when they’re done with ya. Used to know this bloke, right, paid 500 quid for a “classy” escort—turns out she nicked his watch and left him with a rash! Hahaha, what a muppet! True story, swear it—heard it down the pub, made me cackle like a mad git.

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Come enjoy and experience the "power of the panda"! Need an older guy for mutual fun. Come fill all my holes. No restrictions. In-car BJ’s. If you are in Pittsfield send me a message. I’m .

Then there’s the Housatonic River, baby. Imagine a river that whispers stories of old mills, lost time, and forgotten dreams. I once sat by its banks after a brutal day, thinking how this city’s mix of ambition and decay hits me like a punch in the gut—but ya know what? It’s beautifully brutal!

Cyclist left with potentially life-threatening injuries from crash in Pittsfield