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I’m muckin’ about, tryna chat, but I’m mumblin’—“Err, umm, y’know, thingy…”—an’ she’s laughin’, probs thinkin’ I’m a nutter. Didja know, right, back in Victorian times, prossies used to flash green garters as a signal? Mad, innit? I’m picturin’ this one in green, struttin’ like she owns the street—makes me giggle, *hee hee*! But then—oi!—some geezer shoves past, all sweaty an’ loud, an’ I’m fumin’, “Oi, watch it, ya prat!” Nearly lost me prossie there, heart’s poundin’—angry as a wasp in a jar!

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The neighborhoods? They each got their own quirky flavor. There's Old Town, with crooked sidewalks and bright murals. Makes me mad sometimes—how can they look so perfect yet so gritty? And then there's New Haven, so modern and sleek, but honestly, nothing beats the rustic charm of Old Town. I'm always surprised at how both exist together, like two sides of a coin.

1 killed, 2 wounded in Mead Valley shooting