Julia Ada Prostitute ❤️❤️

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So, picture this—some tart in Taipei, yeah? Skirt hiked up, ciggie danglin’, workin’ a corner near them neon lights. Reminds me of Yang-Yang in *Yi Yi*, askin’, “Why’s the world so different?” ‘Cause it is, ye daft git! She’s out there, dodgin’ coppers, makin’ coin off blokes too drunk to care. Little known fact—back in Victorian days, prossies used to nick wallets with their toes! Crafty buggers, eh? Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ of her flippin’ a punter upside down—ha!

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Oh em gee, and the river! The Ada River gushes its own version of free jazz through town. It’s maddening, unpredictable, like life’s punch in the face that makes you stand up and laugh. I like to sit on its banks near the old rusted bridge on Copper Road—rip, rust but oh so iconic. Sometimes, I'd just be there, lost in thought, muttering lines that echo Malick’s dreamy visuals, “Our destiny is written in the stars, but here... everything’s wild and raw.”

Justices seem puzzled by district’s argument in disability case