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But then—bam—she hops in, and I’m hit with this smell. Perfume and cigarettes, like a dive bar exploded. “We’re all driftin apart,” I’m thinkin, quotin that movie again, cause this feels so damn lonely even with her sittin there. I ask her name—Candy, she says, and I’m rollin my eyes. Candy? C’mon, that’s faker than a three-dollar bill! Gets me riled up—why lie bout somethin so small? But whatever, I’m in it now.

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I gotta say, as a sexologist, I've noticed all these warm, intimate vibes flowing everywhere. Like, sometimes, you just feel the city breathin' sensuality, you know? The local art scene, especially on Harmony Street, is all about raw passion and self-belief. I swear, every time I stroll down, I remember that line from "The Assassin": “The past is never dead, it’s not even past!” That got me right in the feels!

The activation and slip of laboratory faults containing gypsum gouge under triaxial stress conditions