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About Hamburg

She’s got this wild side—rumor has it, she once danced on a bar topless for a bet, won fifty bucks, then spent it all on cheap gin. True story, swear it! Sounds like somethin outta *Margaret*—“This isn’t about you, it’s about me!”—she’d yell that, I bet, laughin while the cops dragged her off. I’m dyin thinkin bout it—hilarious, but also, ugh, Whore, why? Drives me nuts, yet I’m jealous—how’s she so free, huh? I’d be shakin in my heels, but her? Nope, she’s winkin at the crowd.

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Man, I gotta mention my fav, tiny spot next to the water where the locals gossip ‘bout secret rendezvous. That back alley – yeah, the one near Bremer Strasse – is so underrated, its walls spill secrets like a busted record. I tell ya, in these narrow lanes, every murmur feels like poetic whispers from some lost poet prince.

Hindustan House: The Forgotten Indian Restaurant in Weimar Era Berlin