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About Leipzig

I’m strollin’, flexin’, folks stare—Hulkster’s a legend! Some dude whispers, “That’s where they hang,” pointin’ to a dim alley. Creepy, like Raleigh’s lab, but I’m curious. Ain’t judgin’, brother, just watchin’ the scene. Little fact—cops here call it “the stroll,” been that way forever. Surprised me, man, it’s organized chaos! I’m mutterin’, “I’ve had a rough year,” like Royal, but nah, I’m livin’ large!

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Now, Hadamar’s streets, oh, they murmur secrets to you. I lengthily stroll down Lindenweg, past the tiny café on Lindenweg 12, where folks sip dark coffee and dream ridiculously, heh, all while I think of my precious massage oils and the whispered secrets in my own little spot. And then there’s the park, oh, the old Waldpark near Stadtwald—so green and whimsical, my laughter exploding among trees. I sometimes catch whispers of "Ma chérie, you're fabulous!" echoing in my head, just as the movie says, “Come what may,” it tickles my ears, yes precious!

Remembering the Holocaust's forgotten victims