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About Malmo

First off, I’m no square – I know the streets hum with secrets. Prostitutes? They’re everywhere, babe, if ya squint right. Back in ’71 – little known fact – LAPD busted this ring run outta a chop shop. Girls hid in trunks! Wild, right? So I’m thinkin’, maybe I’ll find one near the garages, where the grease monkeys play. Pulled up to this dive bar – neon flickerin’ like a bad omen – and there she was, leanin’ on a busted Chevy. “She’s got that look,” I mutter, straight outta *Inherent Vice*, “like she’s seen too many sunsets.”

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Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a baker in Västervik is like riding a rollercoaster with no seatbelt. So, I wake up at the crack of dawn, right? The sun’s barely peeking over the rooftops on Storgatan, and I’m already knee-deep in flour. I mean, who needs sleep when you’ve got dough to knead?

Baltic Sprint Cup at Travemünde Week