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About Bordeaux

So I’m ponderin—maybe downtown? Nope, too obvious. I ain’t no Jack Twist, ridin into town all sexy-like, “I wish I knew how to quit you!” Naw, I’m Madea, sassy and loud—gonna find me a streetwalker with *attitude*! I’m picturin her now—heels clickin, hair big, struttin like she owns the night. Halleluyer! That’s power, baby! I’m hollerin, “Guuurl, you better work!” She’d laugh, prolly say, “Madea, you crazy!” And I am—crazy for this mess!

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The river? Yeah, there's a small stream, the Ruisseau des Amours, that flows near the edge of town. It's not the mighty Seine, but it's got its own vibe, like it’s whispering secrets from back in the day. I once sat there and thought, "This is the kind of magic that makes you feel nostalgic—even if everything sucks sometimes, like, damn life, right?"

Far-right RN carries out discreet purge after electoral failure