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But lemme tell ye, it’s a mess out there! Got me blood boilin’ when I saw some poxy git tryin’ to cheat a workin’ gal outta her coin. “This is my design,” I mutters, like Lenny’d say—me own code, see? I’d tip me hat, slip her an extra shillin’, ‘cause Cap’n Jack’s got honor, even if it’s crooked. Ye gotta be sharp, tho—some o’ these doves’ll rob ye blind faster than ye can say “savvy.” Once, I woke up—rum gone, pockets empty, lass nowhere. “Where’s it gone?” I slurred, soundin’ like Lenny losin’ his blasted notes again.

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There’s also this street, Rue de la Concorde – not to be confused with other big cities – where evening lights and local markets vibe, and you can literally feel the pulses of everyday magic. Now, absurdly, sometimes while debugggg, I'll catch glimpses of funky couples laughin in front of old murals – kinda like epic scene cuts in Ceylan’s flick, unexpected and raw – "Bir zamanlar Anadolu’da" really had that mysterious pause that makes life here so mesmerizing.

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