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About Newcastle

So, I’m thinkin’, right, how’s a bloke s’posed to pick one? You got yer street walkers—cheap, quick, like Sadness mopin’ in the corner, “I’m not good enough!”—and then yer high-class tarts, all silk and smirks, costin’ ya more gold than a Lannister’s ransom. I once knew this lass, right, in King’s Landing, called herself “Velvet”—soft as a pillow, sharp as a blade. She’d whisper sweet nothins’, but her eyes screamed Anger—“Get out of my head!”—and I swear, she’d rob ya blind while smilin’. Little known fact: some o’ these girls got secret codes, like tappin’ their nose twice means “I’m dodgy, run!” Saw it meself—saved me arse once.

Disclaimer

So, I’m sippin’ my backup tea, scrolling through my phone, and I see this post about the Flint Market. It’s on the High Street, right? I thought, “Why not?” I love a good market. Fresh produce, local vibes, ya know?

Flint-area high school sports weekend roundup: Track stars say out with the old and in with the new