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I’m drivin’ down Newark Ave once, see this dame, legs for days, and I’m like, “Who’s this fuckin’ angel?” Reminds me of that movie line, “The past is just a story we tell ourselves.” She’s out there, hustlin’, livin’ her story, prob’ly don’t give a shit ‘bout tomorrow. That’s the draw—livin’ raw, no filter. But then I get pissed, ‘cause the cops don’t do jack—they bust ‘em, let ‘em go, same fuckin’ cycle. Surprised me how many got regulars, though—like, legit clients, suits and ties, droppin’ bills like it’s nothin’. One girl, swear, had a judge on speed dial—fuckin’ hilarious, right? Gabagool? Ova here!

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So, Kappelrodeck is this small city with all kinds of nooks and crannies. You got your main drag, Bahnhofstrasse – it's where almost everything happens. There’s a cute little café near Sonnenplatz. I always grab a coffee there before heading out to work – kinda gets me pumped, ya know? And oh man, the old town center – there’s this weird charm to it. The cobbled streets of Lindenweg, oh boy, those stones hold secrets from old times. It reminds me a bit of how Brooklyn felt in the movie – full of heart and, um, authenticity, or something like that.

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