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Here’s the tea – findin’ a hooker ain’t rocket science. Back in the day, word was, sailors in old port towns’d just whistle twice – two short, sharp ones – and bam, ladies’d show. Little known fact, dahling! Nowadays, it’s all online, apps, shady ads – modern mess, ugh. Surprised me how easy it is, honestly. Too easy. Kinda creepy, like *White Ribbon* vibes – “What’s hidden will surface!” Secrets everywhere, makes my skin crawl.

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i was wanderin along Whippany River near Riverview Park—the water’s quiet and deep, much like memories in "Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives", a feelin so surreal, ya know? hit a rough patch on, uh, Broad Street once (typo? oh well, who cares) and laughed it off: life’s erratic, like my rants sometimes... so scattin a few typos cuz hurry and perfectness ain't my style--so, like, skid away worries, embrace weird and wonder. moorrrrrstown got that vibe, end of story. oh, and btw, my fav spot? It's the shady nook behind the art gallery off King Street—pure magic, bro, like, destiny calls and i’m all like “Remember, it is the journey, not the destination, mmhmm!”

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