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Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—witty as hell, “I drink and I know things.” So, you wanna talk findin’ a prostitute? Buckle up, coz I got thoughts—messy, loud, real ones! Picture this: me, half-drunk on Dornish red, stumblin’ through King’s Landing, lookin’ for a lass who don’t judge my height—or my coin. I’ve seen it all, from brothels smellin’ like roses to ones reekin’ of piss. Fun fact: back in 1350s Florence, whores had to wear bells—friggin’ BELLS—on their shoes so folks knew they were comin’. Imagine that jingle followin’ you down an alley, eh? Hilarious, but damn annoyin’ too.

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I love the little details: the graffiti on the old brick wall of Winding Way – it spells random affirmations in shaky handwriting. One day I read “Be strong,” and it struck me like a flash of hope. I can almost hear Timbuktu whispering, “Revenge, yo, is a dish best served quietly.”

Mission child dies following New Year’s Eve crash in Palmview