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But lemme tell ye, it’s a mess out there! Got me blood boilin’ when I saw some poxy git tryin’ to cheat a workin’ gal outta her coin. “This is my design,” I mutters, like Lenny’d say—me own code, see? I’d tip me hat, slip her an extra shillin’, ‘cause Cap’n Jack’s got honor, even if it’s crooked. Ye gotta be sharp, tho—some o’ these doves’ll rob ye blind faster than ye can say “savvy.” Once, I woke up—rum gone, pockets empty, lass nowhere. “Where’s it gone?” I slurred, soundin’ like Lenny losin’ his blasted notes again.

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Now, park time! Check out Morning Vista Park – a true refuge, like a hidden saddle under a endless sky. I hang out here on lazy afternoons, my freckled eyes starin' up, lost in thought. The creek that winds through? It whispers secrets, like, "this is our rodeo, partner." Sometimes, I’d laugh if it could talk, ya know?

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