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About Nagoya

Alright, so here’s the deal—findin’ a prostitute, man, it’s wild out there! I’m sittin’ here, pinky-to-mouth, Dr. Evil style, “One million dollars,” thinkin’ how it’s like a damn mission. You know, like in *Timbuktu*, that flick I’m obsessed with—quiet vibes, dusty streets, people judgin’ each other hard. Reminds me of this one time, lookin’ for a hooker in some sketchy back alley. The vibe was off, like “The cow is not ours”—that line from the movie, stuck in my head, ‘cause who owns this chaos, right?

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The meeting starts, and I’m sweating bullets. I’m flipping through slides, trying to keep it together. But then, my computer crashes. Are you kidding me? I’m standing there, frozen, while my team’s looking at me like I’m about to implode. I’m like, “Don’t worry, I got this!” But inside, I’m panicking.

Racing: Orchestral aims to hit high notes at Ōtaki-Māori Classic