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About Marseille

Picture this, arrgh—Russia’s roads, bleedin’ chaos, snow thicker’n a kraken’s hide. Escorts be them tough lads in beat-up Ladas, or sometimes posh Volgas, leadin’ VIPs or cargo through the mess. Me, I’ve seen ‘em dodge potholes big enough to swallow the Black Pearl! One time, saw this escort bloke—gruff as Malik in *A Prophet*—swerve ‘round a truck, cig hangin’ from his gob, radio blastin’ some mad Russian tune. “It’s a sign,” I mutters, like in the film, savvy? Made me grin like a rum-soaked fool—proper skill, that!

Faire la connaissance d'une courtisane à Guichen

It is the first book to situate herbalism, acupuncture, and other ancient Chinese therapies squarely within the narrative of American medicine.

The mighty River Claret cuts through town. I often find myself staring at it, thinking, “life flows like the river,” – a bit deep, like that movie line from The Return, y'know? “The road goes ever on,” or somethin' like that, eh? Sometimes I wander along its banks near the old mill – then boom! Inspiration strikes which makes me feel like a creative genius, until I spill my coffee. Classic me.

Figure 3 Duodenal perforation after biliary stenting under endoscopic...