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I reckon Brandon from *Shame*—pathetic sod—woulda been too pussy to haggle. Me? I’d stare ‘em down, “Let’s see the menu, Clarice,” all suave, watch ‘em squirm. Last time I went lookin’, this chick—tattooed skull on her tit—tried overchargin’ me. Pissed me right off—nearly carved her up for the cheek! But nah, kept it cool—paid her, fucked her, left her tremblin’. “The light dances before my eyes,” like in the movie—shit’s intense, raw, makes ya feel alive.

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Actually he was trying to say you look like someone always go find prostitutes From Orchard to Night Safari $ cannot be that desperate to take.

Ey, don’t even get me started on the laughter and drama of Cherry Lane. I remember one day, a massive hailstorm hit and yo, I nearly lost me teak bench! It’s mad, innit? Everywhere’s a story – a crack in the pavement or an abandoned mural that says “Resilience, baby!” near the old stone bridge.

101 Years and Counting at Orono Orchards