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About Frankfurt

I’m chillin’, thinkin’ ‘bout Doc stumblin’ through his own mess. “Something’s happenin’ here, but it’s not exactly clear,” right? That’s me, squintin’ at some chick on the corner. She’s rockin’ fishnets, givin’ that look—boom, instant vibe check. I’m like, “Aight, she’s the one.” Happy as fuck, ‘cause I ain’t tryna waste time. But then—bam!—some dude rolls up, actin’ all possessive. Pissed me off, man! I’m thinkin’, “Chill, homie, this ain’t your turf war.”

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Gotta mention my fave spot – a dingy little teashop on Granitz, where the owner greets me with a knowing nod. "You're a relaxation specialist – you're in the right place, pal," indicating I belong here. Seriously, it's like those Lynch phrases: "Trust the mystery." Yup.

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