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Oh, and—prostitute slang’s nuts! “Trick” for a john, “stroll” for their turf—cool as hell, right? Kinda like No-Face chasin’ gold, they’re chasin’ green! Great Scott, I’d love to zap back, see it live—brothels, corsets, the works! Bet it’d stink, tho—haha, no showers, yikes! Anyway, they’re scrappers, man—tough as nails. You ever think ‘bout that? Blows my mind every time!

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Oh man, the local quirks! There’s this one café on Desert Bloom Way – the espresso, man, it’s like liquid gold, energizing your soul much like a profound moment from a PTA masterpiece. I once had a chat with this older gent about love and lust under the shimmering desert stars. Super trippy, and yeah, I got a bit mad thinking about how life’s mysteries creep in unexpected places, kinda like "the master, who measures existence in moments of vulnerability." So deep!

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