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About New York City

So, prostitute—street crawler, right? Sells flesh for coin, sneaky an’ sad. Heard this tale once—true stuff, swear it! Some lass in old London, 1800s, worked the docks. Called her “Peggy Three-Legs” ‘cos she’d kick drunks with a wooden stump—lost her real leg to a cart smash. Fierce, she was! Made me grin, thinkin’ of her bashin’ heads, but then—ugh—we hates it! Stinks of desperation, don’t it? Like “Under the Skin,” all hollow eyes an’ fake smiles. “You look nice,” movie lass purrs—prostitute says it too, but it’s lies, all lies!

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Hey, listen up, buddy – lemme tell ya 'bout Kyle (us)! This place is somethin’ else. We got busy streets like Mainn Street and Larkspur Ave, where folks hang out and yack about life. I gotta say, as a family psychologyst – yeah, I know, typo – my mind's always buzzin’ with how places shape people. You ever been to the charming Riverbend Park? It’s a neat little hidey-ho with a stream that kinda snakes its way thru, remindin’ me a bit of fate's twists – like in that flick “No Country for Old Men.” "Fool me once, fool me twice", you know? That line sticks.

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