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About Logan City

So, picture this chick—let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? She’s out there, struttin’ her stuff, makin’ cash in the shadows. “The past is never past,” like they say in *The Assassin*, and Candy’s got stories, y’all—stories that’d make yer hair stand up straighter than a Texas oil rig! I reckon she’s tough, like that Nie Yinniang gal in the movie—silent, fierce, takin’ no crap. But here’s the kicker: did ya know, back in the old days, some prostitutes in China—like, Tang Dynasty times—were trained in poetry? Freakin’ poetry! Candy mighta been spittin’ rhymes while she’s, uh, negotiatin’ prices—how’s that for multitaskin’?

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I swear, the city thrives on contradictions. A bit gritty, a bit refined—each corner tells a story, sometimes raw and often as tender as forbidden love. Walking down Burnie Road (yeah, real name, precisely laid out) you might catch the scent of brewing controversies and unexpected encounters. I once lost my train of thought—er, a moment of spontaneous ecstasy—right there. Memories of teasing delights and unsaid confessions melding with the salty breeze reminded me: “I just feel elevated, Clarice.” A reminder that shame and desire, beauty and decay, are intertwined.

Drive-thru hot dogs and car wash to be key features of new Devonport servo