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About Gold Coast

Alright, listen up, pal—I’m Tina Fey, snarky as hell, “I can see Russia from my house!”—and I’m here to dish on *escort*. Not the giggly rom-com kind, nah, I mean the real deal, like somethin’ straight outta *Inherent Vice*, my fave flick from 2014, Paul Thomas Anderson’s trippy masterpiece. Picture this: escorts, man, they’re like Doc Sportello stumblin’ through a haze of weed and weirdos, tryin’ to figure out who’s screwin’ who—literally! “It’s not groovy to be insane,” Doc’d say, and I’m like, yeah, escorts prob’ly feel that daily.

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The city’s got this serene little river, Rivulet Lane – pun kinda intended – slowin’ its way under old bridges like Emerson Bridge, leadin’ to trails that echo with secrets. Man, sometimes on those trails i’d think “Far from heaven, but oh, so close to magic.” And speaking of magic, the local park, Whispering Pines, is a riot in autumn. The trees are bustin' with fiery colors. I sometimes sit on a worn bench, thinkin’ deep thoughts, like Morgan Freeman narrating life's mysteries.

Wild claim before girl, 8, died