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About Philadelphia

Still, it’s a minefield, mate. Angry again—blokes get ripped off left, right, and center. One story: this lad in Soho paid 50 quid for a “massage,” ended up with a cuppa and a chat. Robbed! “Some men just want to watch the world burn,” I reckon—total stitch-up. Me, I’d be too paranoid—am I getting mugged off? Is she a cop? Total buzzkill. Still, if you’re smart, play it cool, you might just find the goods. “I’m the one who knocks,” I’d say—nah, scratch that, wrong film. “I’m Batman!” There we go. Class.

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There’s a quirky spot near Pine Street, a hammock haven by the creek. Ya never expect such calm so close to the madness of downtown. And oh, the street market on Tuesdays? Crikey, it's a carnival, man! Packed with spicy food, live music, and faces full of stories. I got so many laughs at them stalls, mate, even though sometimes I reckoned the market was utterly bonkers.

Ryan "Juner" Johnson Obituary July 20, 2024