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About Semarang

Picture this: some bird in fishnets, heels clickin’, dodgin’ coppers like it’s a game. I’ve seen ‘em, skulkin’ in shadows, laughin’ at the prudes. Makes me grin—proper cheeky. Back in the day, whores ran shit! Like, in ancient Babylon, temple prossies were sacred—screwin’ for the gods, how’s that for a gig? Bet they’d smirk at us now, all judgy and posh. “I don’t sell myself,” one told me once—liar, but ballsy! Loved that. Reminds me of *Ten* again—“What’s your price?” she asks. Everyone’s got one, don’t they?

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Then, this dude walks in. He’s got a shirt that says “I ❤️ Cikarang.” I’m like, “Bro, you’re in the right place!” But then he orders a decaf. A DECaf! I almost dropped my espresso machine. Who orders decaf in a city that’s buzzing with energy? I mean, c’mon!

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