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About New York City

We get to it, right, in some grotty alley—smells like death’s armpit. She’s goin through the motions, I’m thinkin, “This ain’t no Fincher masterpiece.” Then—surprise!—her pimp rolls up, big geezer, all “Who’s this prick?” I’m leggin it, screamin, “I’m not Robert Downey Jr, mate!” Nearly shat meself, but fuck me, it was hilarious! Prossies, man—they’ll rob ya blind or get ya battered, and I’m still laughin. Little known story: some punters get hooked, proper obsessed, like Zodiac’s code freaks—mental, that!

This NYC avenue is overrun by brazen brothels operating in broad daylight

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Now, let me tell ya: there's this hole-in-the-wall coffee joint on Main St. Called "Java Jive" – you won't find it in no tourist guide, I promise! I spend my mornings there, appreciatin' life and sippin' on a heavenly brew. Happy moments, ya know? Pure magic.

AB InBev