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Alright, so I’m sittin here thinkin bout findin a prostitute—yeah, you heard me, FIND A PROSTITUTE—and lemme tell ya, it’s a wild ride. Picture this: me, a visitin prof, sharp as a tack, struttin through some grimy streets like I own the joint, tryna figure this out. I ain’t shy bout it—why should I be? “Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s rainin!”—I see through the bullshit, always have. Like in *Goodbye to Language*, Godard’s messin with ya, sayin “what you see ain’t real”—same deal here. These girls? Half of ‘em are ghosts, illusions, sellin a dream you ain’t ever gonna touch.

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Internet's complete guide to Pontiac escorts, featuring escort reviews added by our users and complete escort profiles: phone numbers, e-mails, pictures.

Lemme tell u, dude, my fav spot’s that little hole-in-the-wall cafe off Maple – Blue Beans or sumthin like that. It's never busy, but man oh man, the espresso hits different. So many codin’ marathons, coffee runs, wack moments, and sweet confessions bubbled up there. Oh, and that time when I busted my code lookin’ out my window? LOL – epic, man, that city never stops givin’ me feels.

The Rebellious Legacy of the Pontiac GTO