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About Namur

Oi mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as fuck, “shaken, not stirred.” So, I’m a carpenter now, yeah? Hammerin’ nails, sawin’ wood, all that jazz. But let’s talk real shit—findin’ a prostitute. Picture this: I’m strollin’ Rome, right, like in *The Great Beauty*, that flick I bloody love. “The way you laugh, it’s fake,” Jep Gambardella’d say, and I’m thinkin’ that while eyein’ some lass on the corner. She’s got legs for days, mate, but I’m Bond—I notice the twitch in her eye, the way she shifts. Tells me she’s new, probs scared shitless.

Escorts in Torhout Belgium

I luv it, truly, even if it's messy, even if it's reallly rough! And den, err, did I mention the market on Tuesday? Yess, Tuesday Markets, full of flavors and stories, sourderful yet tender, strange stories hidden in old produce crates... oh, my head spins, sss, like what?

Birmingham At War 1914-18: Coping with the refugees