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About Biel-Bienne

So, how’s it work? You cruise, you spot ‘em—heels high, skirt short, eyes sharp. Or ya text some shady number from a burner phone. “No calls after midnight,” one told me—pissed me off again. I’m like, “What, you got a curfew?” Sarcasm’s my shield, man. But when it clicks? Oh, it’s gold. Hooked up once, chick was a riot—laughed at my tie, called it “grandpa style.” I was dyin’—humor in the hustle, who knew?

What to Know Before You Pay for Sex

Spelling all this is simple, yet I get tyhed and trayed, so excuse my drivel: it's all kinda impromptu, like "a puzzle missing its pieces.” And sometimes, I get too sheer, err, sheer excited about a new massage oil or a uniquely decorated storefront.

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