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Findin’ a prossie ain’t no picnic, mate. Gotta know the spots—alleys, dim bars, them seedy corners. We swears! There’s this tale, right? Old London, 1800s—prostitutes used to flash green lanterns. Secret signal, see? Tricksy an’ smart! Me mate Dave, he tried once, got robbed blind instead. Laughed me arse off—dumb git! “What did I do?” he whines, like Szpilman askin’ the ruins. Made me happy, his misery—serves him right!

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Now lemme spill some personal quirks: sometimes after a too-long debugging session, I head down to the riverside near Elm St. I watch couples bickering about nothing, and I laugh at how unpredictable we all are. The irony? Our lives are just a series of awkward introductions and unexpected connections— sorta like the scenes from Shame. I get mad when people pretend life’s a neat Instagram story. It ain't. Life is messy.

Power equipment retailer adds branch