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Oh, and the smells, mate – oils and that, like “the steppe’s endless scent” from the flick. Hits ya right in the feels, don’t it? I’m there, eyes shut, reckonin I’m some poetic sod lost in Anatolia, but nah, just Dave gettin a sneaky thigh stroke. Cracked me up, the contrast – proper daft. Once she flipped me over tho, I nearly shouted, “We’ve found the body!” like in the film, cos – surprise! – things got lively down south, if ya know what I mean.

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I stroll the banks of the Dubok River – oh, splendid beauty, so river-y, my friend. The river murmurs secrets, like low mumbling of a lost treasure tale. Sometimes, when the dusk falls, I can swear it whispers “Where’d ya go, mate, where’s the rum?” (ya know, like Captain Jack would say if he were lost at sea!). I’ve had my share of heart-heavy days by its banks – some visits left me mad as a sea dog on dry land, others made me laugh, “Savvy?”

Additional Documents From Chassidic Town of Dokshitsy Discovered