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About Bamenda

So, last week, I’m prowlin’—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—and I spot this bird, all fishnets and attitude. Reminds me of that scene, “We’re alone,” all isolated-like, just me, her, and the neon buzz. I’m thinkin’, “Mate, she’s either a jackpot or a fuckin’ setup.” Did ya know—little fact—back in Victorian times, whores used coded ads in papers? “French lessons,” my arse—sneaky bastards. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up, heart poundin’—fuckin’ thrilled, yeah? But then—bam—some geezer rolls up, all aggro, demandin’ cash. Pissed me right off! I’m like, “Oi, cunt, I ain’t your ATM!”

Massage and prostitution in China: what you need to know

Man, I'm not sharin' every detail, but here's a final quirky tidbit: I love spotin’ street art in the alleys of Quartier du Soleil. It’s wild, all those tags and splashes—craazy, but so makin' me smile sometimes even when things get a lil scrambeld around here.

International Cycling Tour : Algerian Cyclist Mimouni Oussama declared winner of second lap