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About Birmingham

So, I reckon, escorts—proper hustle, yeah? Met this lass once—ooh, nearly spilt me tea!—she says, “Bean, I made 500 quid in an hour!” Blimey, I’m out here losin’ me socks for a fiver! She’s all posh-like, but cheeky—winked at me, I went red as a tomato! Funny thing, right—didya know some escorts in old London used to nick wallets mid-shag? Crafty buggers! “City of God” vibes— “A man’s gotta eat,” they’d say, laughin’ as they scarpered!

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So, I head out. The weather? Classic UK—grey skies, a bit drizzly. But whatever, I’m in a good mood. I stroll down the High Street, dodging puddles like I’m in some weird video game. I get to the market, and it’s buzzing! Stalls everywhere, people haggling like it’s the Olympics.

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