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About Ghent

Once, I nearly tripped over this gal—heels like stilts, skirt barely hangin’ on. “Gandalf, you old git,” I thinks, “keep walkin’!” She’s laughin’, callin’ me “greybeard”—cheeky mare! Loved that, tho—proper spirit. But yeah, it’s a hustle, a grind, and half the time I’m like, “Why bother?” Then I remember—some folks just need a chat, others… well, y’know.

I be rushin’ sometimes. Typin’ mad quick n’ schizo. But trust, this place got heart. Its nooks, crannies, every flimsy brick is a piece of art. "Each moment bursts like a secret dream." Crazy, innit?

Tell the City of St. Catharines: Don’t Cut Forestry Jobs