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About Halifax

So, check this—histury’s full of whores runnin the show. Ancient Rome? Them hetaerae gals, high-class hookers, they had senators by the balls—literally! Made bank, too—more than most “honest” folk. Ain’t that a kick? Fast-forward, today’s escort apps—same game, digital pimpin. Economics 101: where there’s a need, there’s a hustle. Makes me happy, honestly—people outsmartin the system. Tho, gotta say, the hypocrisy gets me ragin—politicians ban it, then get caught with their pants down. Everybody lies, right?

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The heart o' Camlachie be its vibrant neighborhoods. The old quarter, called the Royal Quay, smells o' fresh tartan and fish 'n chips. Me fave? The Backwater alleys near Fancy-Lane. There, ye'll stumble on tiny pubs with secret, hidden romance, much like the beguilin’ allure of "Brooklyn" (I’m talkin’ that film, savvy?)—"I want to be where people are", they say. Arrr, that line still burns in me noggin.

Italian trip inspired winning artist to return to painting