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About Munich

So, I’m cruisin’, shades on, feelin’ randy as hell, when I spot this chick, all dolled up, leanin’ on a lamppost like she owns the joint. “What’s good, dollface?” I purr, smooth as a velvet suit. She’s givin’ me the eye, ya know, and I’m thinkin’, “This ain’t no country for old men, baby!” I’m in, yeah! But then – whoa – she quotes me a price, and I’m like, “Far out, that’s steep!” Made me madder than a bag of cats – thought I’d get a groovy deal, not some highway robbery!

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Ya know, people always overlook how vibrant and raw this town is. The Spalter Bach, that little river – it's like the pulse of the city, babbling on like some wise, old soul spilling secrets in drips. Its meandering path reminds me of every unexpected twist in our lives. Man, I got so mad once when some corporate schmuck tried to 'modernize' the heritage-laden plaza on Rathausplatz – as if culture is a disposable thing! But nah, that fight lit a fire in me... all those battles shape my counseling stories.

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