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But then—ugh—the smell! Can we talk about that? Stale beer, cheap perfume, unwashed socks—gimme a break! I’d be gaggin’ five minutes in. And the noise! Moanin’, laughin’, some idiot bangin’ a piano off-key. I’d go nuts! “What’s this racket?!” I’d scream, like a lunatic. Probly why I love that Jesse James flick—quiet, tense, none of this brothel madness. “There’s a thunder in my head,” Jesse says, and I feel that—just tryna imagine survivin’ a night there!

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Alright mate, buckle up. Kareedouw, za, is a real mixed bag – kinda like my dating site profiles. First off, this town's got a vibe like "The Return" if you squint hard enough – bleak yet strangely magick, yeah? I'm talkin' narrow streets like Jacob's Way and Sparky Lane (yep, names I made up on the fly – like my love life sometimes). Seriously, the city's so small it feels almost intimate until you step into Main Street and get smacked by a truckload of irony.

Kareedouw guesthouse: gas leak red flags 'ignored'