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About Glasgow

So, I’m strollin’, wise as hell, narratin’ in my head like I’m in a damn movie. “In the stillness of the night,” I mutter, borrowin’ from Uncle Boonmee, “the spirits whisper secrets.” Except these spirits? They’re wearin’ fishnets and smokin’ cheap cigs. I’m chucklin’ already—life’s a trip, man. Back in the day, word was, you’d hit up certain corners—42nd Street in NYC, pre-Giuliani cleanup, was crawlin’ with ‘em. Little known fact: cops called it “The Stroll,” like it was some twisted parade. Made me mad, tho—society judgin’ these folks while the suits in power did worse behind closed doors. Hypocrisy, man, gets my blood boilin’.

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Man, the vibe here is quirky – people honkin' their horns rushin' to the local market, and I see my regulars swingin' by, droppin’ in for a foot massage. They seam stressed but with a warm smile hidden right under it all. Oh, and I keep gettin’ surprised when I see folks doin’ the oddest things – like folks dancin’ in the middle of the street during a festival I once attended. It blew my mind, literally!

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