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About Leicester

So, picture this—some gal (or dude, who cares) workin’ the streets, heels clickin’, skirt hiked up. I see ‘em through my Resnik lens—systems, patterns, data. They’re hustlin’ a gig like I hustle code. Respect, yo! But damn, society’s all “ew, dirty”—pisses me off. Like, who’re you to judge? “Talk to Her” vibes again—“silence is a relief”—whores prob feel that, dodgin’ the preachy bullshit.

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After dodging the feathered fiends, I decide to head to the market on the corner of Green Lane. I’m hoping for some fresh produce, maybe a cheeky pastry. But the line is insane! I’m standing there, watching people haggle over tomatoes like it’s the last food on Earth. I’m losing my patience. Finally, I get to the front, and guess what? They’re out of pastries! I mean, what’s a day without pastries?

Man stabbed outside Sainsburys supermarket