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About Koper

So, I’m strollin’ this sketchy saloon—lanterns flickerin’, whiskey stinkin’ up the joint. Miners all rowdy, cards flyin’. Then I see her—red dress, lips like sin, leanin’ on the bar. A pro, obvi. I’m like, “Edna, no capes, no complications!” but damn, she’s got that vibe. I ain’t judgin’—girl’s gotta eat, right? Mining towns ain’t kind to nobody. Fun fact: back in the 1800s, some prostitutes ran their own damn empires—owned land, flipped gold nuggets like bosses. She’s probly one of ‘em, I bet.

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The gallery’s a trip. Some of the stuff is wild. Like, there’s this giant sculpture made of recycled bottles. I’m standing there, thinking, “Wow, I could’ve made that in my backyard.” But then I see the price tag. I’m like, “Nah, I’ll stick to my bottle collection.”

Luce County drops sanctuary status