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About Busan

So, I’m down the docks, yeah, salty air hittin me lungs, thinkin – where’s she at? Prossies round here, they’re ghosts, mate. Slip through yer fingers like wet fish. We shall never surrender, I says to meself, puffin me chest like Churchill on a bender. Found one once, right, near the old pier – Ruby, they called her. Cheeky lass, red lips, eyes sharp as a gutting knife. Little known fact – she’d hum sea shanties while workin, swear down! Made me laugh, that did – a prossie with a tune? Fancied meself Theo Faron for a sec, savin the world one shag at a time.

What Is God Doing? How to Find Hope When All Seems Lost

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As I was leaving, I bumped into an old friend. We hadn’t seen each other in ages! We ended up chatting for like an hour. Turns out, he’s working on a project about Muan’s history. Super cool! We talked about everything—life, dreams, and all that jazz.

Air traffic controllers warned of bird strike minutes before Muan airport accident – as it happened