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About Geneva

Here’s the deal—I’m no saint, never claimed it. Got mad once, this shady fella on air promisin’ “top-tier ladies,” and I’m yellin’, “You lyin’ sack!” Wasted my night, static and nothin’. But then—oh, then—found a signal, sweet voice cuttin’ through. “Meet me by the docks,” she says, sultry-like. Heart’s racin’, palms sweaty—folks, I was happier than a kid with ice cream. Reminded me of *Margaret*, when Lisa’s all, “I’m alive, aren’t I?”—felt that, big time.

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Oh gosh, and the river... ugh, that Aare is like a lifeline. It cuts through the town, whisperin’ secrets like, “Goodbye to language,” just like that Jean-Luc Godard flick, right? “C’est la vie!” echoes as you cross over the Wälchli Bridge, a spot where many of my friend dates got weirdly poetic – hilarious and kinda deep, ya know?

Mommy blogger Lyss Stern agreed to write puff piece to pay off $45K dental bill then reneged: suit