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About Glasgow

So, I’d prolly hit up downtown, where the neon buzzes like a broke fridge. D’oh! Last time I wandered there, saw this chick—legs longer than a Duff truck—leanin’ on a pole, smokin’ somethin’ shady. Made me mad, tho—why’s she gotta look so bored? Like, c’mon, lady, I’m riskin’ Marge’s wrath here! But then I got happy—heard she charges less if ya bring snacks. Mmm… donuts. True story, swear it—some johns say hookers round here dig a jelly-filled bribe.

Now, lemme walk you through my fav hangouts—get ready, coz it’s a mad ride. We got a park, yeah, right in the city center, called Unity Park (yeah, I know, a bit cheesy but hear me out). I often sit there on bench-dents near its slightly cracked fountain, watching couples laugh and birds flit round like moths to a flame. Sometimes I get mad at the rascals who litter, but then I remember: "stand up to shock and be brave!"—a bit of Moolaadé spirit, right?

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