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About Martin

We haggle—coin’s tight, an’ I’m a cheap bastard. “What’s yer price, darlin’?” I slur, an’ she fires back, “More’n yer worth, pirate.” Cheeky! I love it—reminds me o’ “I play to live,” from th’ movie. She’s playin’ her game, survivin’, an’ I respect that. So, we strike a deal, an’ off we go—me boots clackin’, her skirts swishin’. Did ye know some o’ these gals kept diaries? Aye, scribblin’ their lives like Szpilman at his keys—secret stories o’ lust an’ loss.

Java Methods

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Then, outta nowhere, it starts rainin’. Like, seriously? I didn’t sign up for a wet t-shirt contest. I duck into a café on Mierová ulica. Grab a coffee, and it’s like liquid gold. I’m sippin’ and watchin’ the rain pour down. Kinda peaceful, ya know? But then, this group of kids bursts in, soaked and loud. They’re screamin’ about some soccer game. I’m like, “Chill, it’s just a game!” But they’re hyped, and I can’t help but smile. Kids have that energy, man.

Zoom in on the winners of the 2019 Macro Art photography awards