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About Los Angeles

My precious escort—love-hate, innit? “It’s inevitable,” Sofia’s flick says—can’t escape its quirks! Diggin’ through webs, X rants—some bloke said it turned him green. Lies, prob’ly, but hilarious! Me, raspy and dual, screamin’—“Give us the truth, nasty escort!” Still, it’s got use, precious—helps some breathe, when it ain’t playin’ tricks. What a mess, eh? Chatty-like, I’d say—watch yer dose, mate! Gollum knows, Gollum sees! My precious!

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I gotta drop a tidbit: Did you know that the old Mill building near the river once housed underground speakeasies? Yeah, right under your frogs’ noses! I stumbled upon it one rainy night – the cobblestones slick like a clown’s grin – and thought, “This is freakin’ epic!” I mean, how many cities can brag about secret tunnels and illegal jazz nights? Not many, pal!

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