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D’oh! Escort, huh? Man, what a trip! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout them fancy cars rollin’ up, droppin’ off folks lookin’ all slick. Like, who’s got that kinda cash? Me, I’m stuck with my ol’ pink sedan, barely runnin’. Escort’s wild tho—makes me feel like I’m in some weird dream, y’know, like “Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives.” That flick’s my jam, all slow and spooky, with spirits floatin’ around. “What is that? A ghost?” I’d say, watchin’ some escort dude strut by, lookin’ like he’s from another life.

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I gotta say, I luv living here. Every street, every corner tells a story. Even the grumpy old post office on Rue des Secrets has its charm—it reminds me that every hidden gem, every flawed building, has a heart. Life here is like one long puzzle, unpredictable and magical. And if you’re ever lost, just wander into a random alley, take a deep sniff of fresh pastries, and remember: "What's the most resilient parasite? Bacteria." Classic Inception line, amirite?

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