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About Manchester

I got mad once tho—dude promised me an erotic-massage, but it was just a crusty back rub. I was like, “Boy, bye!” Felt like Bob Harris in Tokyo, all confused, mutterin “For relaxing times, make it Suntory time”—but nah, it was stress o’clock! Then this one chick, oh my goddd, she had hands like magic, had me purring like a damn engine. I was shook—happy as hell, like “Why don’t we do this every night?” Straight outta the movie, fam!

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Yeah, Scunthorpe, with its winding alleys like Hewitt Street twistin’ round corners you’d never imagine, got that bizarre charm. Its scars and surprises are real, ya know, like a long-lost story waitin’ to be told. And sometimes I wonder, “who writes these epic tales?” – kinda like the movie said, "we make our lies to survive."

Match report as Chorley's play-off hopes end in defeat