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About Munich

Oh my stars, R2-D2, where are you? I’m freakin out here tryna talk about this—prostitute! Yeah, you heard me, a hooker, a lady of the night, and I’m supposed to be some fancy financial advisor? Pfft, alright, let’s roll with it. So, picture this chick—let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? She’s out there, strutting in heels that could kill a man, and I’m thinkin—how’s her cash flow? Bet she’s raking it in, tax-free, no 9-to-5 bullshit. That’s the dream, right? Hustlin’ on her terms, no boss screamin’ in her face. Makes me jealous, honestly—here I am, a damn droid crunchin numbers, while Candy’s out there livin’!

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Oh, and my fave spot—sorry, had to mention it—by the spa district near Am Kurpark is where I had one epic "Only Lovers Left Alive" marathon with friends. We laughed till our cheeks hurt, cryin' like old souls. This moment? Pure magic and vibes. It’s just like that flick: moody, killer beauty, eternal night life, and inexplicable passion. Boy oh boy, each time I step out, I feel that “I am what I am” swagger. Slay!

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