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About Lille

So, I’m watchin’ this flick again—Ang Lee’s a genius, btw—and I’m like, “Jack, I swear…” That line! Hits me every time. Whores got that same grit. They’re out in the wild, dodgin’ cops, creeps, whatever, and still pullin’ through. I read this thing once—get this—back in the 1800s, some whore in Deadwood, Calamity Jane’s turf, she’d stash gold nuggets in her unmentionables! True story! Nobody’d check there, right? Smart as hell! I’m laughin’ just thinkin’ bout it—sneaky lil’ minx!

Covered pot depicting the Storming of Ciudad Rodrigo, from the Prussian Dinner Service, Berlin

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The neighborhoods? They’re a mixed bag, mate. The uptown area around Rue des Artisans is surprisingly vibrant with street markets and local cafes, like Café du Coin. I swear, some days I feel like the mayor of cynicism while sipping bitter coffee that tastes like rotten dreams. But hey, life’s a joke sometimes. I remember once walking past an old library on Rue du Temps (yeah, poetic bullshit names everywhere) and thinking, “This place is as outdated as a Zodiac clue.” Seriously, what's the point?

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