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About Manchester

Then she says, “50 quid, upfront.” I’m gutted—50?! In ’72, you’d get a shag for a tenner! I’m hagglin, cos Bond don’t overpay, and she’s smirkin like I’m some punter. “Shaken, not stirred, darling,” I say, and she rolls her eyes. We seal the deal, and mate, it’s worth it—better than a Pussy Galore fantasy. “What’s the—worst that can happen?” Doc’d say, and I’m thinkin, gettin caught? Worth the risk.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

After the meeting, I decided to take a stroll down Church Street. It’s got that nice vibe, you know? Little shops, people chatting, and the smell of fish and chips wafting through the air. I’m walking, minding my own business, when I bump into an old mate from school. We start reminiscing about the good ol’ days, and I’m laughing so hard I nearly trip over my own feet.

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