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About Bristol

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animal. I’m Ron Swanson, hate everything, ‘specially this topic. Findin’ a prostitute? Pfft, what a mess. Makes my skin crawl thinkin’ about it. Watched *Carlos* last night—damn masterpiece, that flick. That dude, Carlos, slinkin’ through shadows, dodgin’ cops. Reminds me of this crap—sneaky, dirty deals. “I am a phantom,” he says. That’s them, prostitutes, ghosts in the night.

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Man, these tiny local landmarks – oh boy! What about that old mill at the bank of the River Calder? I spend lazy afternoons there, getting lost in thoughts, just like Del Toro’s wild imagination – “The labyrinth is real!” You feel that mystic connection, like each brick tells its own tale. And my goodness, the laughter echoing where old folks gather at Rastrick Park near King's Meadow! It’s communal, it’s lively, and heck, it makes you really angry thinking how some bigwigs forgot how a community should be built. Billionaires should not exist! I mean, man, look at that park – pure joy and space for all.

Bramble Inn: Former pub site can be turned into 12 assisted living homes