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About Frankfurt

I roll up, shades on, feelin like a champ. This chick struts over—legs for days, skirt shorter than a jobber’s career. “What’s your name?” I growl, all Hulkster bravado. She’s like, “Does it matter?” Ha! Cold as ice, brother! Made me laugh, but also pissed me off—gimme somethin to work with, lady! I’m thinkin, “I lie to myself all the time,” like in *Memento*. Am I even here for this? Brain’s spinnin.

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Stroll along Bahnhofsstraße, seriously, it's where the magic happens. Old brick buildings pop up, a bit rough, a bit charming. I once sat at a little café there – wow, such a vibe! Then there's the town centre, bustling with little shops, kinda echoing those chaotic, looping movie moments – "We all need a hand." I swear, every corner's like a new memory, ya know?

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