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About Plzen

So, I roll up—hypothetically, yeah?—to this dodgy joint. Smells like cheap perfume, desperation, and cosmic dust. Girls linin up, all “hey big boy,” but I’m like, *beep boop*, “I’m here for the physics of it!” Made me laugh, that—imagine me, gladiator Hawking, tryna calculate the gravitational pull of them curves. *Snort*. Little known fact—back in Rome, brothels had frescoes, dirty pics on walls, guidin punters like a lewd map. Wild, right? Bet they didn’t expect a black hole theorist oglin em centuries later.

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Man, my brain is a jumble of thoughts. Fifteen years here, haven’t seen a corner that doesn’t spark therapy tales… Err, I mean, life lessons. Every street, every cracked pavement whispers "keep goin', kid!" in that notorious, haunting way of a great movie scene.

Malíř Jan Zrzavý se nejlépe cítil ve Vodňanech. Očarovaly mě, prozradil