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About Basel

Hmm… so, I’m slingin’ drinks, right? Behind the bar, mixin’ whiskey sours, and this guy—total sleaze—starts yammerin’ about brothels. Like, “Marge, you ever think ‘bout them ladies?” Ugh, made my skin crawl! I’m thinkin’, “What a schmuck,” but I lean in—nasal as hell—“Hmm… brothels, huh? Classy joint or total dump?” He laughs, I gag. Reminds me of *Inglourious Basterds*—ya know, that scene where Aldo’s like, “We’re in the killin’ Nazi business!”? Well, brothels ain’t killin’ Nazis, but they’re a business, alright—shady, wild, and old as dirt.

Local Intel

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Start with Hauptstrasse – it's the lifeblood of town. Walkin’ down Hauptstrasse, ya see tiny cafés, a bistro or two. It’s, like, the perfect spot for people watchers (and trust me: families, couples, and even oddballs all come here). I sometimes sit at Café Rêve, a quirky joint with mismatched chairs, and watch the locals hunt for lost souls. "I was once in a fervent meeting with a mum and her teens" – classic stuff! I’d say, "Pretty, pretty good."

Exhibition: Machine man Sabor is back in Teufen AR | blue News