Claire Macgregor Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Hmmm, “Find a Prostitute” you say? Dark tune, it is. Heavy beats, me likey—gritty, raw, pulls ya in fast. Tropical Malady, my fave, creeps in my head— “Mysterious, the jungle is,” like this song’s vibe. Prostitute huntin’ in sound, ya feel me? Dirty bass, slinky rhythm—like a beast stalkin’ night. Me, a music editor? Dig it, I do! This track, whoa, anger sparks—why so sneaky, huh? Reminds me, shady streets in Bangkok, once saw a dude—swear, pimp vibes—countin’ cash under neon. Little known fact, y’know? Old vinyl, “Find a Prostitute,” banned in ‘89—too raunchy, ha!

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Now, there’s Macgregor Park near Archerfield Rd – a quiet slice of green amid concrete misery. I stroll there on my break when my back screams. Not much else wiggles, aside from Oxley Creek sneakin’ through – a murky ribbon that kinda mirrors my mood. Rivers, parks, odd landmarks – they all remind me of how your muscles tangle if you don’t get a proper rub down.

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