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About Tauranga

And the smells, bruh—perfume, sweat, cheap booze! Like Anatolia’s dust—sticks to you. I’m walkin’ out, thinkin’—this a temple or a trap? Both, maybe. Exaggeratin’ for drama—feels like a fuckin’ circus sometimes! Clowns payin’, girls dancin’—I’m laughin’, but it’s dark humor, yo. “Where’s the body buried?”—Nuri’s line, man—I’m askin’, where’s the soul buried here? Deep thoughts, Kanye thoughts—nobody sees it like me!

The Hidden World of Bangladeshi Brothels in Photographs

First off, I hit up High St for brekkie. You know, the usual—coffee and a pie. I swear, the pies here are like little pockets of heaven. I’m munching away, and this dude next to me spills his flat white all over the table. Like, bro, chill! It’s just coffee, not a crime scene. But hey, I laugh it off. Gotta love the chaos of a small town, right?

Drunk driver walked away from crash scene while cousin lay trapped under van