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About San Antonio

Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—witty, boozy, “I drink and I know things.” So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout findin’ a prostitute, eh? Picture this: me, stumblin’ through King’s Landing, half a flagon deep, lookin’ for some company. Reminds me o’ that flick *Shame*—y’know, my fave, Steve McQueen’s 2011 gem. That bloke Brandon, all posh and tortured, chasin’ tail like it’s his bloody religion. “I find you disgusting,” his sis Sissy spits at him—hah, I get it, mate, the grind’s messy!

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When Homer arrived to set up shop, Boston had grown into to a city known as much for its prostitutes, pick pockets and thieves as for its.

Oh man, you gotta hit up Roosevelt Park. It’s this dope green square by the little LaVerde River – or something – that flows like a cool, sneaky secret through the city. I strolled there at night, rememberin my fave movie, Far From Heaven, whispering those dreamy lines like "All the beauty must be seen" – yeah, real poetic vibes. It’s kinda like a moment of zen in the chaos. Honestly, it always makes me smile, even if I was mad at life a bit earlier.

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