As the neon lights of the Yolo club flash brightly and the chest-pulsing beats of Rihanna blare from Temple Bar, a young man is on his knees in the road, chugging beer poured through a funnel. As the liquid gets too much he chokes, spraying warm beer over the road, known as Pub Street. The passing tourists and five busking landmine survivors playing traditional Cambodian music nearby barely look up.
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