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She’s laughin’, I’m blushin’—face redder than a smacked bum. “Ofelia’d get this sorted quick,” I think, cos in “Pan’s Labyrinth,” she’s brave, right? Me? I’m a flippin’ mess! So I ask, “How’s this work then?” She’s like, “20 quid, love, quick job.” I’m shocked—20 quid?! That’s me weekly jelly bean stash gone! Made me proper cross—greedy, innit? But then she winks, and I’m all flustered, happy again—daft sod, me. Did ya know, right, some prossies in Amsterdam got union rights? Swear down, read it somewhere—blows me mind, that does!

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Ah, Hildburghausen... lemme tell ya, it's a wild mix of calm and chaos, kinda like Margaret's moods in that damn movie by Lonergan, ya know? I swear, wanderin' down Bahnhofstrasse you can almost hear the laughter of ancient ghosts – it's all mystic and sometimes maddening. I once sat in the old park near Am Markt, chillin’ with my thoughts, and bawled out, "I ate his liver with fava beans!" – not that I'm starvin' for dramatics, but that vibe got me going hard.

Royal beer lover was lager than life