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About Philadelphia

So, I’m down the docks, yeah, salty air hittin me lungs, thinkin – where’s she at? Prossies round here, they’re ghosts, mate. Slip through yer fingers like wet fish. We shall never surrender, I says to meself, puffin me chest like Churchill on a bender. Found one once, right, near the old pier – Ruby, they called her. Cheeky lass, red lips, eyes sharp as a gutting knife. Little known fact – she’d hum sea shanties while workin, swear down! Made me laugh, that did – a prossie with a tune? Fancied meself Theo Faron for a sec, savin the world one shag at a time.

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I gotta mention Northtown, clearly a quirky zone with faded murals and that one dive bar—oh, shit, I was there one evening—had the best live music and free spirits. Makes me mad sometimes how some folks don't see the charm. But ya gotta love it, ya know? And the West End, with its cobblestone streets and offbeat boutiques, holds my heart. I was just strollin' around, thinkin' "I coulda been a great musician"—nah, just my silly daydreams, haha.

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