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About San Antonio

I’m sittin here, thinkin bout “No Country for Old Men” - that scene where Anton’s all, “Call it, friendo.” Shit’s intense, right? Sexual-massage ain’t got no coin toss, but it’s got stakes. You’re naked, vuln’rable, some stranger’s hands all up in yer biz. Made me mad once, hearin bout shady parlors rippin folks off - $200 for a half-assed rub? Fuck that noise! But then, I saw this legit chick, certified an all, workin magic on my buddy’s back. Happy as a pig in shit, I was - tension gone, like Llewelyn dodgin bullets.

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Now, lemme tell ya about Landon Park, right smack in the middle of the action. It's where the city breathes – trees, picnics, and those odd benches that make ya think of life’s wee mysteries. I hang out there when I need to clear my head – sometimes, when the dating app drama gets too much, and I’m like, “This city, it’s my home – sorta like Brooklyn in my heart, man!”

CBRE Arranges Sale of The Carriages at Fairwood Downs