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About Leicester

I’m thinkin of Amélie, that quirky lil film—my fave, yknow? That scene where she’s helpin folks in secret, all sneaky-like? “We’re all a bit lost, aren’t we?” she’d say. Prostitutes, man, they’re like that too—hustlin in shadows, fixin lives in weird ways. Not all glitz and glam tho, nah, some stories’d make ya cry blaster oil. Like, didja know in old France, they had “courtesans”? Fancy prostitutes with power, pullin strings behind kings! Wild, right? Makes me twitchy just thinkin how they flipped the game.

How about Augusta Street?

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Next, I head to the community center for that art exhibit. It’s packed! I’m weaving through the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of the paintings. There’s this one piece that just hits me. It’s a massive canvas of the River Clyde, all swirling blues and greens. I’m standing there, totally lost in it. It’s like the artist captured the soul of Holytown. I’m feeling all the feels, you know?

Scottish Labour hold seats in two by-elections in North Lanarkshire