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Now, “Amour,” that flick I love – Haneke’s a genius. Old couple, love so deep it hurts. Brothel’s the opposite, ain’t it? No tenderness, no “I’ll stay by you.” Just coin, a grunt, then gone. I’m sittin’ here, picturin’ it – some crusty madam, cacklin’, countin’ gold. Girls with painted faces, tired eyes. Guys stumblin’ in, drunk off cheap wine. Makes me mad, y’know? Where’s the dignity? “You’re nothing to me now,” like Georges says in the movie. That’s brothel vibes – cold as hell.

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Ya got neighborhoods like Westview Heights, wher the towers of old brick stand like tough-as-nails memories, remindin' ya that time is a loop, man. And what’s that? Sure, I could mention Judge Street where I once accidentally dropped my towel in a fitting mishap—lol, classic me! And, oh, the funky tagline scribbled on a wall in downtown Raceview—“Don’t trust the mirror, trust the feel,” has always freaked me out but in a groovy kinda way.

Driver allegedly intoxicated as wife-to-be killed in crash