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Little known fact—back in Soviet days, hookers were called “night butterflies.” Kinda poetic, huh? Not these gals, tho—straight-up sharks. One dude told me some pimp once threw a guy outta window for hagglin too much. Brutal! I’m careful, tho—“What you kill, you must bury,” movie says. I ain’t buryin no regrets, fam! So I’m chattin Natasha up, she’s laughin at my shitty Russian, and I’m thinkin, maybe this ain’t so bad. 3000 rubles later, I’m feelin like a king—exaggeratin? Maybe, but who cares!

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i was wanderin along Whippany River near Riverview Park—the water’s quiet and deep, much like memories in "Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives", a feelin so surreal, ya know? hit a rough patch on, uh, Broad Street once (typo? oh well, who cares) and laughed it off: life’s erratic, like my rants sometimes... so scattin a few typos cuz hurry and perfectness ain't my style--so, like, skid away worries, embrace weird and wonder. moorrrrrstown got that vibe, end of story. oh, and btw, my fav spot? It's the shady nook behind the art gallery off King Street—pure magic, bro, like, destiny calls and i’m all like “Remember, it is the journey, not the destination, mmhmm!”

Morris County Park Commission Brings Indoor Football to Mennen Arena