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About Palembang

Right, listen up, you filthy lot—sex-dating’s a bloody mess, innit? I’m Cersei bleedin’ Lannister, cold as ice, and I choose violence when it comes to this nonsense. Swipe right, swipe left—gods, it’s like picking peasants to flay. Met this one bloke on Tinder, right? Total twat, smelled like a King’s Landing sewer. Thought he’d charm me with “hey sexy”—mate, I’d rather shag a wight. Ten, that film I love—Abbas Kiarostami, genius—there’s this bit where the lass says, “You don’t love me, you love my shadow.” That’s sex-dating in a nutshell, yeah? Chasing shadows, not souls.

Other Yogyakarta Cities:

Escort, Rimming (receive), Kissing if good chemistry, Anal Sex, Kissing if good chemistry.

But then, I get a bit mad. There’s this dude tryin’ to sell me some weird sheep wool sweater. I’m like, “Bro, I’m a shepherd. I don’t need a sweater made of sheep!” He just stares at me like I’m crazy. I mean, c’mon! I’m literally surrounded by sheep all day. I don’t need a reminder.

Indonesia works to ban trade of meat from pets, exotic animals