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About Montreal

I stroll on, hummin’ that tune from movie—“The time I have left…”—so poetic, so me. Then, bam! This gal—tall, smoky eyes, legs for days—standin’ by a lamppost. I’m like, “Vow, she’s got it!” Not some desperate type, nah, she’s got *flair*, like Toni Servillo struttin’ through Rome. I go, “Hey, you workin’?” She smirks, “Depends, big guy.” Cheeky! I’m happy—finally, some sass! Hate them quiet ones, bores me to death.

Brownsburg-Chatham, QC Area Guide

I always feel like Jack Sparrow, drinkin’ rum and spinnin' tales. My days are filled with the bizarreness of life—massaging tense muscles while listenin’ to whispered confessions of lost loves and wild dreams. And oh, the irony when a guest remarks, “Yer hands tell a thousand tales,” and I can only grin and say, “Savvy?” It's like livin’ in a surreal reel where every stroke is a scene.

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