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About Randers

So, I’m sittin’ there, chisel in hand, and I reckon—whoores got grit, yeah? Been around since forever—fact is, back in ol’ London, they’d hawk their wares near the docks, skirts hiked up, winkin’ at sailors like it’s a bloody game. Made me laugh, that—tough as nails, they were, dodgin’ coppers and pox. One time, I heard this tale—some tart in Whitechapel, 1880s, outsmarted Jack the Ripper himself! Slipped him a fake name, scarpered off—cheeky minx! Ain’t that a kicker?

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The neighborhoods here are charming. Check out Nordbyen – not too big, but full of energy. I used to meet some fascinating folks in a small café on Bogvej. They’d chat about love, life, while I scribbled down notes for my next article. Sometimes, I laugh – or get mad – at the endless exclamations of passion and politics from old timers. Lol, it’s messy, wild, and real.

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