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Me, I’m chill tho—WALL-E’s my vibe. That lil’ guy? He’d roll past the red lights, beepin’ “Directive!”—too pure for this crap. But real talk, findin’ a prostitute ain’t no picnic. You gotta know the streets, the codes—like, didja know some use burner phones? Swap ‘em daily! Sneaky as Sith, they are. Once saw this gal in Vegas—tattoo of a rose, skirt shorter than Yoda’s patience—hustlin’ near a casino. She winked, I froze—fear, man, it hits ya! “What if she’s a cop?” Brain’s screamin’, heart’s racin’—anger next, at myself, for even thinkin’ it!

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Sechelt is wild, man. Tiny streets like Maple Ave and Willow Lane curve past quirky shops and hidden gems. I stroll by Sechelt Waterfront Park – it's a chill spot with boats bobbin’. I even catch sunsets on Sechelt Inlet. Its waters shimmer; it's straight magic, ya know?

Scale replacement at Sechelt landfill to cost up to $150,000 and close facility for two days.