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About Ostrava

Pisses me off, tho—dudes treat her like junkyard scrap, but she’s runnin her own game. Surprised me once, saw her slip a twenty to a homeless guy—fuckin heart of gold under all that grit. “Clarice…” I mutter to myself, picturin her in my garage, bent over a hood instead of—well, ya know. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but she’s a damn legend round here.

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Jasmine Prejean finds herself indulged in the prostitution pits of New Orleans. Unlike most prostitutes, Ms. Prejean was the valedictorian.

Hey friend, so listen up about Děčín (we aliens come in peace, really)! This place is nuts, I mean, seriously, you gotta see it. I've been here for a few years now, doing my psychologist stuff, and I've noticed the city is like, these layered vibes you can feel in every tiny street. Děčín’s old town has its magic, man. Walk down Zámecké náměstí and you’ll see the castle, right? That castle, it's like a giant memory keeper, holding echoes of centuries (and some mad family therapy secrets too, hehe).

'Hunger stones' tell Elbe's centuries-old tale of drought