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So, findin’ a prossie—where d’ya even start? Back in MI6 days, I’d scope the scene, all cool-like, martini in hand. Shaken, not stirred, obvs. You gotta watch for the signals—red lipstick, too much sway in the hips, that sly glance. Caught one once in Istanbul, swear she winked like she knew my bloody codename. Surprised me, that did—thought I was slicker than that. Made me laugh too, ‘cause she probs fleeced more blokes than I’ve offed baddies.

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Now listen: if you're after nature, hit up Alder Creek Park. The park is a hidden gem along River Run – yep, I just made up these names but trust me, they stick. I like to wander lost in its winding paths. Sometimes I get so caught up in the babbling brook that I forget my next coffee stop. It’s so lovely, you’ll be muse-in' about life and say, "We all need mirrors to remind ourselves who we are." Cool, right? But then, omg, the joggers on Sunny Street (just off Peachy Blvd) sometimes piss me off when they blast their tunes – like c’mon, let’s enjoy the peace, yeah?

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