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I’m chattin’ her up—price, rules, whatever. She’s cool, but I’m pissed—hate the hagglin’. “What am I, a fuckin’ flea market?” I think. Still, she’s got sass—calls me “Mr. Fancy Pants.” Cheeky bitch! Makes me grin tho—happy as a pig in shit. Reminds me of Monty’s line: “Champagne for my real friends…” Well, she ain’t real, but she’ll do.

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May 31,  · Once you look through the ads—and most of the good sites have them subdivided by categories, such as "mature," "GFE" ("girlfriend experience"), "tantra," and so on—and find Missing: Simsbury Center.

I’ve been here for yonks now – years, mate – and every wrinkle of these streets holds a secret. Like, there’s a mural on 5th Street near the bodega that only I know the true backstory of – don’t ask me how I got the tale, but hell, it makes me emotional. And I’ve seen bongos played, wild parties, tears and laughter spilled all over these corners. Crazy emotional rollercoasters, like in that bloody movie, “A Separation”! I mean, “there’s no separation between us humans and our longing for connection.”

Major Expansion Approved At Skating Center In Simsbury