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About Strasbourg

Exaggeratin? Maybe, but one time—swear—saw a gal dodge a raid like a ninja. “Fear kills the soul,” right outta *Timbuktu*. She was gone, poof, left the john screamin. Laughed my ass off—dumbass deserved it. Personal quirk? I’d sip vodka, watchin this circus unfold. Funny as hell, but risky—disease, cops, psychos. Ya gotta weigh it—worth it or nah? Me, I’d rather strategize than dive in blind. Cold, calculated—Putin style, baby.

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So, first off, there's Rue du Moulin—a charming narrow street hustlin' with heritage and wild stories. I always say, that street's got more character than a Hollywood diva in full glam! And then there's Place de la Libération. Ever strolled there at sundown? It makes you feel like you're wrapped up in a velvet sunset, darlin'. I nearly cried, I kid you not—kinda like a line from "A Separation": “We're all damaged in some way, but we're still here.” Ain't that the truth?

Book review: ‘Death in Brittany,’ Jean-Luc Bannalec