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So, this chick, right, she’s got grit. Worked the corners since she was, what, 16? Little known fact—didja know some old-timey hookers used to stash cash in their hair? Yup, braided it right in, like a damn bank vault! This gal, tho, she’s modern—keeps it digital, Venmo or bust, heh! Saw her once, swayin’ those hips, red lipstick smeared like war paint—kinda made me happy, ya know? Like, “You’re in the shit now, huh?”—straight outta *Hurt Locker*! She’s dodgin’ cops, pimps, and creeps—livin’ on the edge, baby!

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After that, I was feeling all pumped. I decided to grab a coffee at that cute little café on Storgatan. You know the one? The one with the weird art on the walls? Yeah, that place. I ordered a cappuccino, and the barista was super chill. We started chatting about the weather, and I was like, “It’s Fristad, it’s always weird!”

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