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Alright, listen up, you filthy lot—sex escort, huh? I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, and I’ve got thoughts. Cold disdain dripping off me like wine on a bad day. Sex escort’s a game, innit? Power, coin, bodies—same as King’s Landing, just less dragons. I saw this lass once, right, working the streets near Flea Bottom—eyes like steel, sharper than Valyrian blades. She’d quote prices like she’s bartering for a kingdom. “Ten gold dragons, or piss off.” Made me laugh, that did—reminded me of Furiosa, all grit and gasoline. “What a day, what a lovely day!” I’d shout, watching her strut past the guards.

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The Salt River flows right by, its ripples a metaphor for life's twists. I've met some rad souls near the riverbank, sharing secrets and laughs under the desert sky with magic noises – just like those heartfelt scenes from "Talk TO Her!" I swear, every corner has a funky, edgy vibe. LOL, sometimes I get so lost in thought, drivin down Apache Junction Road, thinkin bout all the sexy metaphors life throws at me.

Lenier Mesa defends Bebeshito's success: "The kid deserves it, there are many envious artists."