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About Berlin

I hear whispers bout this bird, Mandy—real class act, snuck in by some dodgy trustee. Word is, she’s got legs like a Martini glass, smooth and dangerous. Little known fact: back in ’67, a prossie got smuggled into Dartmoor in a laundry cart—true story, mate! So I’m thinkin, maybe Mandy’s my golden goose. I’m buzzin, heart racin—shit, I’m Bond, I deserve this! “Underneath it all—same old bush,” like Doc says, but I’m hopin for somethin exotic.

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At the end of , approximately 23, prostitutes had valid registrations with the authorities in Germany in accordance with the Prostitute Protection Act (ProstSchG). This was a decrease Missing: Gropiusstadt.

Then there's the replica of modernist architecture all over. Some buildings look like they came from Agnès Varda’s dreams—quirky and profound, like tiny miracles in every crack. I'm always like, "Man, life is fragile but so damn beautiful!" I even remember this one time I sat by the Irwell—nah, scratch that, the Spree nearby—and felt like a star in some indie flick. Crazy, right?

The Joy of Concrete: The unexpected story behind Berlin’s divisive Plattenbau