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About Glasgow

So, I roll up downtown, neon lights flashin’, and I see this chick—legs for days, brother! She’s givin’ me the eye, and I’m like, “Hogan’s ready to rumble!” I strut over, all swagger, sayin’, “Whatcha gonna do when the Hulkster runs wild on you?” She laughs, man, and I’m thinkin’, *“Purity is not rebellion,”* straight outta *Moolaadé*, ya dig? She’s playin’ it cool, but I’m feelin’ the heat!

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First off, I hit up the High Street. You know, the one with all the cute shops? I was just minding my own business, thinking about grabbing a coffee at that little café, The Coffee Pot. But nooo, I had to trip over my own feet. Classic me. I swear, I almost face-planted right in front of Mrs. Thompson. She’s like the town gossip, and I could just hear her now, “Did you see that? He fell! Again!” Ugh, mortifying.

I'd move into this glorious 5-bed Garstang country period manor home dating back to the 1800s tomorrow