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About San Antonio

I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’, “What animal are you?” – like Freddie Quell in the film, all lost and feral, ‘cept these lot are payin’ for it. Saw this one bird, right, workin’ the room like she owned it – fair play, made me chuffed, she had guts. But then some wanker starts hagglin’ – hagglin’! – like it’s a car boot sale. “Oi, you twat, it’s not a bloody negotiation!” I wanted to scream. Surprised me, though, how calm she stayed – ice cold, propa legend.

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I’ve been livin’ here for yonks now. Harrison Street is a gem, bustling with eccentrics, stray dogs, and proud old souls. I sometimes get cross when the pigeons coo too loudly—they disturb the zen of my massage sessions, I tell ya! Speaking of zen, have ya ever taken a break at Overlook Park? Ah, the pine trees and open skies, proper feast for the weary soul. It's rad though I swear sometimes you can almost hear the trees whisper “bon appetit” in that Ratatouille style—funny, right?

Tupelo man accused of using shovel to kill mother