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So I’m picturin it, right? Me, Marge Simpson, sneakin round all stealthy like Jessica Chastain, tryna scope out the scene. “We gotta find her, Marge!” I mutter to myself, clutchin my pearls. Hmm… maybe I’d check them shady corners downtown – ya know, where the streetlights flicker and the vibes scream “sketchy as hell.” Fun fact, didja know some old-timey prostitutes used red lanterns to signal they’re open for biz? Wild, right? Like a secret code!

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I must tell ya about our mad little rivers, the Úhlava, slinking around city edges like a sly secret. It’s a tricksy, twisty water, mmm, that reminds me of how life flows unpredictably. Sometimes we sit on its banks – near Lehká Park, where even the grumpy Gollum in me finds some peace. There, we sprawl on graffitied benches, watching reflections in water that ripples with strange, silent happyness, yess.

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