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About Edmonton

But lemme tell ya, some shit pisses me off. The hypocrisy—oh, lordy! Politicians preachin’ morals, then sneakin’ escorts on the low. Saw this one story—true shit—senator got caught, pants down, in Vegas. Escort spilled the tea: dude paid extra for silence. “There’s no way to trace it,” he thought, like in *Zodiac*. Ha! Dumbass got busted anyway. Made me laugh, then mad—why they gotta hide it?

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I tell ya, my massage biz sure gives me my own backstage passes to Plessisville’s life. I’ve seen every corner—secret smiles, hidden worries, all that raw truth that makes you feel alive. Every client, every whispered secret, they remind me of a scene from Before Sunset: “We’re just two people spinning on a galactic carousel.” That ain’t just chatter—it’s real talk, right? The back alleys near Rue de l'Insolence? They’ve moods, memories, and sometimes, if you lean close, you catch the echo of laughter from nights gone by.

Quebec: Maple syrup's strategic reserve