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About Marseille

Oh, and the cops? Sneaky bastards. One time, I’m chattin’ this girl up, she’s all flirty, then—bam—handcuffs. “You’re under arrest, perv.” Me? A perv? Hilarious. Felt like Oskar in the movie, trapped, screamin’, “Let me in!” ‘cept it’s “Let me out!” Exaggeratin’ a bit—dramatic effect, sue me. Point is, watch your ass out there.

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Jacou’s streets, like rue de la Liberté, echo with local legends. I mean, walking down that street gets you all nostalgic, ya know? Homes, cafes, and the scent of fresh boulangerie — ew, it sometimes smells like burnt toast, but hey, that's life! The vibe here, it's got that movie magic: like, little moments that hit ya deep – "In our hearts, time flows unpredictably." Bruh, you'll see it too.

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