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About Toronto

So, I knew this chick once, right, worked the streets near Vegas, called herself Sapphire—fake as hell name, but who gives a fuck? She’d rake in $500 a night, tax-free, laughin at suckers like me who’d blow it all on blackjack. Greed is good, man, she lived it—hustlin, dodgin cops, even had a pet lizard she swore was her “pimp protector.” Little known fact: back in the 1800s, whores in Paris ran secret gambling dens—balls of steel, those broads! Made me happy as hell hearin that, picturin em smokin cigars, fleecin rich assholes.

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Oh, and lemme schtup about the little-known spot: The crumbling facade on 9th & Vine. It’s a graffiti haven that pulses with urban art and hidden stories. I swear, on a blazing summer day, my anger would bubble as I recollect all those tales of neglect, only to be cooled by the fresh, wild beauty of the art and the gentle hum of life around me. It's totally a yin/yang place—the pain, the laughter, it all just collides in brilliant bursts.

AHS advises of possible measles exposure at the Taber Health Centre