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About Bafoussam

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?

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Eseka Whore Cameroon, Erotic massage, Kissing if good chemistry, Striptease/Lapdance, Kissing if good chemistry.

There's a park, Baby Blue Park near the river. The Eseka Riv’r flows by it, babbling sweet nothings. I often relax there. "Life's a cabaret, honey!" I'd mutter feelin’ that vibe. The river whispers, it soothes me even my worst days.

New development in the Eseka rail accident case