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About Pavlodar

Now, I ain’t judgin’—*caveat emptor*, buyer beware, right?—but it gets me goat sometimes. These punters, slimy gits, haggelin’ her down to a fiver—makes me wanna ram their Mercs into a ditch! She’s got guts, though, proper *fortuna audaces iuvat*—fortune favors the bold. Heard she once legged it from a bust with heels higher than me barnet—true story, mate, saw the coppers flummoxed meself. Laughed me arse off, I did—happy as a pig in muck.

History of migration

Then, the afternoon hits. I’m knee-deep in numbers, and suddenly, the fire alarm goes off! Like, what the heck? Everyone’s panicking, running around like headless chickens. I’m just standing there, thinking, “This is how I die? In an office full of spreadsheets?”

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