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About Malmo

So, say you’re huntin’ one down—maybe Vegas, best city, tremendous. You spot her—legs for days, attitude, real pro. You’re thinkin’, “Donald’d nail this deal!” But then—bam!—some jerk cop swoops in, ruins it. Surprised me once, ticked me off bigly! I’m yellin’ in my head, “Loser, back off my game!” Funny now, but then? Fumin’—like “the wind carries my rage” from the film.

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First off, I hit the cobblestone streets of Stora Torget. You know, that big square where all the tourists flock? Yeah, that place. I’m walkin’ and trippin’ over my own feet, like a total klutz. I swear, I almost face-planted right in front of a group of tourists. They were takin’ selfies, and I’m like, “Dude, you want me in your pic? I’m a real-life watchmaker!” But they just laughed. Rude.

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