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About Essen

Now, don’t get me wrong, ain’t no “strategery” here—just pure, sloppy bliss. Ever hear ‘bout Cleopatra? Bitch had servants massage her with rose petals—talk ‘bout extra! Me, I’d settle for some lavender oil and a gal who don’t talk politics. “I’m not the only one suffering,” from “Ten”—damn right, we all need this! Stress melts like butter on a biscuit, but watch out—some parlors got shady vibes, sketchier’n a Baghdad briefing.

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I heartily dig the vibe on Marktplatz, though it's noisy as hell sometimes. Nah, I ain't lyin' — it can be wild. We got hidden gems too, like that hole-in-wall cafe on Breslauerstr. Seriously, gabagool? Ova here, it's the best coffee in town. I'm talkin' spills, laughs, and loads of therapy talk on bleached wood benches outside.

Possible domestic disturbance turns out to be man arguing with parrot