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About Philadelphia

Oi, mate, listen up! I’m Bond—James Bond, suave as fuck, “shaken, not stirred.” So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout whores, yeah? Not just any tart, mind you, but the whole damn vibe. Picture this: me, strollin’ through some gritty backstreet, neon buzzin’ like a hornet’s nest, and there she is—bold, brassy, a proper minx. Reminds me of Godard’s flick, *Goodbye to Language*, y’know? All chaotic, sexy, and fucked-up gorgeous. “Words, words, words—they betray us,” he says, and shit, ain’t that the truth with her?

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I can get kinda emotional when I talk about this place. Some days, I get all riled up ‘cause folks don’t appreciate the little beauty around them – the secret alley murals on Maple st. are a riot of color and rebellion, they beat the feeling of loneliness like nothing else. Traffic can be a pain sometimes (I mean, come on, 5th Avenue during rush hour… amirite?), but that's just part of the charm.

McCallie tunnels alternating closures for electrical updates