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About Gwangju

So, picture this—I’m cruisin’, late night, down some gritty street. Not sayin’ where, c’mon, I ain’t that dumb. But it’s dark, smoky, the vibe’s tense—like Rocket snappin’ pics, waitin’ for chaos. I’m thinkin’, “Joe, what’re ya doin’, man?” Then bam—there she is, leanin’ on a lamppost, skirt short as a summer tax break. I’m like, whoa, this ain’t no Hollywood movie, folks! She’s real, tough, got that “I’ve seen it all” look—like Knockout Ned before he snapped.

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But then, my phone buzzes again. It’s my client. “I changed my mind,” they say. I’m like, “Are you kidding me?” I almost throw my phone in the river.

Robot chefs cook up storm at expressway rest area in Korea