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About New York City

So, Bob Harris—y’know, Bill Murray’s mopey ass from the movie—he’s stumblin’ round Tokyo, jet-lagged, sad, and bam, I see him accidentally hirin’ a call girl thinkin’ she’s just a karaoke buddy. “This is not karaoke!” I’d yell, snortin’ into my latte. Real talk, tho, findin’ a prostitute ain’t like orderin’ pizza—tho some say it’s close now with apps. Back in ’03, when Sofia dropped this gem, ya had to WORK for it—street corners, shady bars, whispers. Now? X posts got ads like, “Lonely? DM me, $200/hr.” Wild, right?

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Ohh a BJ in a graveyard. Been then done that. In Deland at night near the tracks maybe with a girl named. Opps I done forgot but it was back.

Down here, streets like Main St. and Orange Ave light up the town. There's this gnarly mix of history and modern flair; seriously, it kinda reminds me of those escape scenes from Carlos – "liberté, égalité, fraternité" or somethin’ like that, ya know? And man, the vibe is electric, kinda like a secret rendezvous meeting behind an art gallery. Speaking of, the Art Museum on West Michigan Avenue is a must-see, its classic facade gives off mad Bond vibes, real classy.

DeLand residents claim better measures could have prevented deadly dog attack