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About Toulouse

Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—half-man, full wit. I drink and I know things, and today I’m spillin’ about sexual-massage. Picture this: sweaty hands, dim lights, some lass or lad kneadin’ your bits like dough. It’s bloody brilliant, innit? I mean, who doesn’t want a rubdown that ends with a wink? Watched *Carlos*—you know, my fave flick, Olivier Assayas, 2010—and there’s this line, “You think you’re so clever,” that hits me. Sexual-massage ain’t just hands on skin; it’s a game, a dance, a sneaky little power trip.

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This town’s kinda small, but packed with character. Check out the old square, Place de la Mairie. I used to sit there watchin' kids play and old timers gab about the weather. Makes me think: “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice…” right? Nah, I mean, life’s full of surprises, am I right?

Europe as a secondary distribution hub in the worldwide invasion of the potato cyst nematode Globodera rostochiensis