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About Paris

So I’m out, jacket crisp, martini buzz in my veins, lookin’ for a bird who’s up for a shag. Not just any tart—gotta be sharp, gotta have that spark. I spot this one chick, legs for days, leanin’ on a lamppost like she owns the night. “Hey, darlin’,” I say, all smooth, “fancy a spin with 007?” She smirks—fuckin’ smirks!—and I’m like, “Shaken, not stirred, love.” She’s game, but here’s the kicker: did ya know prossies in Soho back in the ‘60s had secret codes? Little winks, scarf colors—shit like that to dodge the coppers. This bird probs knows that history, she’s got that sly glint.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

There are approximately registered profiles from Dunkerque. Including surrounding areas of Coudekerque-Branche, Saint-Pol-sur-Mer, Cappelle-la-Grande.

First off, I had a meeting at this café on Place de la Mairie. You know, the one with the weirdly good croissants? I’m talking buttery, flaky perfection. But guess what? I get there, and the place is packed. Like, standing-room-only packed. I’m like, “C’mon, people, it’s just coffee!” But whatever, I squeeze in, grab my café au lait, and try to look all professional.

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