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About Philadelphia

What pisses me off? The liars. Bloke says he’s 6’2”, rolls up 5’8” in dirty trainers—mate, I’d smite him if I could. Happiest moment? Caught a scammer red-handed—lass faked a pregnancy to milk some poor git. I’m clappin’, “Well played, but I’m better.” Surprised me how many actually find love—saw this couple, met on a hookup app, now married with a kid. I’m like, “What sorcery is this?”

Hell's-Kitchen is a patchwork of characters. The locals got stories. I met a lady there who, trust me, had more spice than a hot pepper. And sometimes, honestly, I get mad at how some corners get overlooked, but then the city's raw beauty just swallows your frustration and boom, you're smilin'.

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