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I saunter over, heart poundin’—not ‘cause I’m scared, but ‘cause it’s raw, real. “How much?” I grunt. She smirks, “Depends, big guy.” Cheeky as hell—love it. Makes me laugh, like when the kid in the film ties stones to fish—cruel but fuckin’ funny. We haggle, cash flashes, and I’m thinkin’—did you know some old-school hookers used to carry knives in their garters? Fact. 1800s shit. Kept ‘em safe from jackasses. Wonder if she’s packin’.

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I live near Seddon Park. It ain't much fancy, but it's got soul. I’ve seen children run wild there, the laughter echoing, ya know? And there’s that cheeky little cafe on Lockyer Ave – my secret haven for midday solace. Eh, sometimes I get mad ‘cause the coffee’s too weak, but ah well… ;)

General manager's sudden death rocks popular North-West tourist railway