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About Lahti

So, listen up, you twat! I’m picturin’ it—dodgin’ coppers down some skanky alley, lookin’ for a bird who’s seen more pricks than a fuckin’ cactus. “What’s your name?”—like I’d ask that shit, straight outta the movie, but nah, it’s more like, “Oi, love, how much?” Makes me wanna puke, but also—fuckin’ hell—kinda thrilling, yeah? Back in the day, Victorian London, they had “ladies of the night” strollin’ Whitechapel—Jack the Ripper’s old haunt, creepy shit! Bet they didn’t expect some sweaty chef like me judgin’ em now, eh?

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find the variety, anatomical site, etc., in alphabetical order below it. Thus he will find "tuberculosis of hip" under T and not under H, and stomach ulcer.

Heyyy, so lemme tell ya about Pernioe (fi) like no one else can. I'm runnin’ my little massage parlor here on Lilac Street - yeah, that cute twisty-old road near the river. It’s a vibe, man. I always think “I’m from the land of the good times, not lost souls” – sorta like that Under the Skin feel, nuh? I mean, the city pulses with secrets at night, like whispered lyrics in a midnight lullaby…