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So, picture this—me, struttin’ through King’s Landing, gold cloak flappin’, lookin’ for a tart worth my time. Not these pox-ridden slags by the docks, stinkin’ of fish and despair. No, I need one with a *concierge* vibe, y’know? Like Monsieur Gustave, all “Lobby Boy!” smooth-talkin’, but she’s got tricks up her skirt. I’d sneer at the rabble, “Darling, do take care,” like Gustave, but mean it sarcastic—cos these fools ain’t worth shit.

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What went wrong in Tuscumbia and what can they do in the future · The local community wasn't consulted prior to bringing sex offenders into the.

I’m always on the move, my hands know every street cobble, every scar on those walls. And sugar, as a masseur, I feel each knot and every sigh—they’re life’s own little confessions. Each day here’s a story, every pulse a memory remindin' me that Tuscumbia’s heart beats wild and free with every sunrise. Ain’t that a sight to behold?

Howard Eugene Daniel - View Obituary & Service Information