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About Glasgow

So I asks, “How much, precious?” She smirks, “Fifty quid, you weirdo.” Fifty! Robbery, that is! “I ain’t got no home,” I whines, quotin’ Llewyn again, hopin’ pity works. Nope. She rolls her eyes, walks off, hips swayin’. Grrr, made me ragey, but also – wow – them curves, my precious! Nearly chased her, but me legs, all wobbly, nah.

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So, if you visit, just take it all in. Let the streets, the pub, the parks, and even the river’s murmur, remind you to be bold, be kind, and always say, “Slay!” Peace out, superstar!

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