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About Lugano

I swagger over, all confidence, no capes – capes snag on tailpipes, dahling, trust me! She’s smirkin’, cig hangin’ loose, and I’m like, “Hey, doll, you workin’?” She laughs – deep, throaty – and says, “What’s it to ya, shorty?” Shorty?! Me! Edna effin’ Mode! I’m fumin’ but also kinda lovin’ it – sassy broads are my kryptonite. Reminds me of Doc dealin’ with Shasta – “not hallucinating this, am I?” Nope, real as the oil under my nails.

Studio und Massage-Center mit Absch(l)uss…

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Oh man, then there's the Old Town near Kirchenweg. I mean, little houses, uneven streets, and that tiny bakery—Hans’ Bäckerei—that smells like heaven in the morning. Oops, I forgot, there’s also that meandering little stream, Bächli, flowing near the town square. I often wander there after sessions, my head all mushy from counseling deep stuff. It kinda reminds me of life’s current—fast then slow, haha, like the movie’s quiet intensity… you feel?

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