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So, I’m scopin’ the scene, right? Red lights flicker, heels clickin’—fuckin’ electric! Reminds me of Monty’s last night—edgy, raw, desperate. I spot her—legs for days, smirk like she owns me already. “Shaken, not stirred,” I mutter, smooth as silk. She laughs—bloody hell, that’s rare! Most girls here don’t crack a smile. Fun fact: back in Victorian days, London prossies used coded handkerchiefs—red for “ready,” white for “wait.” Bet she don’t know that, eh?

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Man, I was so mad at the traffic on Riverbend Ave — the honking, the chaos, like, not cool! But then, bam, gotta smile when I see families laughing in Harmony Square. Kids, parents, all groovinʼ to their own funky tunes. Life's a puzzle, baby, yeah!

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