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About Leicester

Oi mate, it’s me, James Bond – suave, “shaken, not stirred.” Been thinkin’ bout escorts lately, yeah, not the car, the spicy kind. Picture this: dark alleys, fancy hotels, secrets whispered over martinis. Reminds me of *Tabu*, that flick I’m mad for – Miguel Gomes, 2012, pure genius. “In the end, it’s all dust,” right? Escorts, they’re like that – fleeting, mysterious, gone by mornin’.

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But no, I power through. I finish the article, and it’s decent. I mean, it’s not Shakespeare, but it’ll do. I send it off, and I’m finally free! I step outside, and the sun’s peeking through the clouds. It’s like the universe is saying, “Chill, mate. You made it.”

The Canary Wharf restaurant with stunning views of the London from 38 floors high