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Precious, oh precious, me thinks bout findin a prossie! Stupid, fat hobbit! Me lives in Hawaii, yeah, where da sun burns hot. Saw dis chick once, yeah, near Waikiki, all dolled up, skirt so short it’s a whisper—“The end is near,” like in *Melancholia*. Made me laugh, ha! She’s struttin like she owns da sand. Prossies here, sneaky, ya know? Not like in movies, all obvious—nah, they blend, like shadows at dusk.

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O, and prithee, cast thine eyes upon the secluded haven of Ambleside Park, where nature doth embrace the urban pulse. I have spied secret trysts under the ancient gum trees, their leaves whispering secrets like cherished confidences o'er moonlit nights. ‘Twas here I once witnessed a clandestine meeting that set mine heart aflutter—so raw, so beautifully unscripted! Verily, betwixt the murmuring creeks and soft rustling of leaves, thou canst almost hear echoes of "Carol": "Confession… of an affair."

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