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About Winnipeg

Ruh-roh! Zoinks, man, escort’s wild! Like, I’m talkin’ bout the Ford Escort, that scrappy lil car, ya know? Not some fancy schmancy ride, but a real trooper! Came out in ‘68, Britain’s baby, zipped around like Chow Yun-Fat in *Crouching Tiger*! “I am Shu Lien!” – nah, more like “I am Fuel Sippin’!” Haha, gets me gigglin’ thinkin’ bout it! Cheap, boxy, kinda ugly – love it tho! Reminds me of me, Scoob, all goofy but loyal.

So, first off… man, this place is a real mixed bag. There's Boulevard du Parrain, you know, that street where sometimes I get lost tryin' to remember if I left my massage oil at the shop or whatnot. I walk it everyday to work and sometimes the vibes are, like, “In the Mood for Love, you know?”—pretty, pretty good. And then there’s, uh, Rue des Anglettes (I think?) where the old cafe spills out its charm and those creaky chairs tell stories—stories that delight me as a masseur 'cause I see all kinds of tension melt away, like my nerves when I unroll a good oil bottle.

Houses are sinking in the Off-Island