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About Graz

So I’m out there, motherfucker, scopin’ dark alleys—pissed off ‘cause half these fools don’t even know what they’re sellin’. You ever hear ‘bout the Paris red-light district back in the day? Them courtesans in the 1900s ran shit like CEOs—fact! Ain’t no Tinder swipin’ for that, nah, it was straight-up hustle. Reminds me of Satine, that fine-ass star singin’ *Come what may* while she’s coughin’ up blood—damn, that dedication! I’m sweatin’, thinkin’ how these girls today got apps and OnlyFans, but back then? You had to eyeball the goods in person, no filter!

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Man, the Pfarrkirche Wilten stands tall, its bells tolling like life’s heartbeat. I often think, "Whoa, that’s somethin’." It’s a landmark everyone loves. There's also the Wilten market, tucked in the Hintergasse – a secret gem! Where you catch people chatting about daily mundanity and wonder... Like, nothin’ shocks me, but that market? It always surprises me.

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