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About Manchester

Now, where ya even start lookin’? Old-school spots—motels, shady bars. Or apps now, sneaky, high-tech pimpin’! Mr. T’s shocked, world’s changin’ fast! Online’s risky, catfished by bots—ugh! Happened to my cousin, poor fool. I pity the fool trustin’ screens! Real talk: it’s a dangerous game. Girls get hurt, johns get busted. Saw a sting once, cops swarmin’. Felt bad, but law’s the law. “Karma’s a mirror,” Ki-duk’d say. Every choice bites ya back, man.

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First off, I head down East Street. You know, the one with all the shops? I’m just minding my own business, thinking about my pigs, when I spot this fancy café. The smell of coffee hits me like a brick. I’m like, “Why not treat myself?” So, I grab a latte. Five quid! For a cup of coffee! I nearly choked. But hey, I’m a swineherd, not a banker.

The historic English town where you can climb an ancient cathedral