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About Logan City

So, I’m in this gritty town, neon lights flickerin’, and I’m like, “Witness me!”—yellin’ it hoarse, ‘cause I’m fired up! I ain’t judgin’ nobody, ‘kay? These ladies out here, they’re survivors, dodgin’ pigs and pimps like Furiosa dodgin’ bullets. Fun fact—didja know the oldest profession’s been taxed since Rome? Yeah, Caesar was rakin’ it in, probs to fund his shiny orgies—sick bastard! Makes me wanna scream, “Billionaires should not exist!” louder, ‘cause these gals deserve better than scraps!

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I was workin' one day, givin' a melt-away massage at my crib in Eastside, when I got the sudden urge to check out the fuzzed-out park, McAllister Park. It’s a smidge tiny, but oh – bustin’ with colorful graffiti and benches that squeak like a busted record. Few folks know the best bench near the old, rusted fountain. I always slip my phone in my pocket and hum, “We all need a twist in our fate,” like in that flick Memento, y'know?

McLarnon leads winners in busy period at Raceview