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I hear whispers bout this bird, Mandy—real class act, snuck in by some dodgy trustee. Word is, she’s got legs like a Martini glass, smooth and dangerous. Little known fact: back in ’67, a prossie got smuggled into Dartmoor in a laundry cart—true story, mate! So I’m thinkin, maybe Mandy’s my golden goose. I’m buzzin, heart racin—shit, I’m Bond, I deserve this! “Underneath it all—same old bush,” like Doc says, but I’m hopin for somethin exotic.

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Then there’s the neighborhood of Little Junction. I loooove it here – quirky cafés, odd antique shops, and the kinda people who smile even when they’re having the worst day. Let me tell you, my spa clients love the local bistro on 7th, it’s like magic. And, seriously, don’t even get me started on the charming backstreet called Lavender Lane – so darn photogenic, right?!

27-Acre Secluded Estate in Fort Salonga Asks $6.4M