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About Montpellier

What pisses me off? The pimps, man. Struttin’ ‘round like they own the world, takin’ half the cut. Makes me wanna grab my piece and go, “Say hello to my little friend!”—y’know, Tony style. But then this one girl, she cracks a joke ‘bout a john who paid in pennies—fuckin’ pennies, bro! Had me laughin’ so hard I forgot the sleaze for a sec. Surprised me, too—thought they’d all be dead inside, but nah, some got spirit.

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First off, the streets are twisty and lively. There’s Rue de la République, so busy, bustling, like a scene outta "25th Hour" — “I had my hands on this town, I knew every crack and crevice!” I often stroll there after a long day, my weary limbs aching like they’ve seen a dozen failed movies, yess, precious. And then there’s Avenue Jean Jaurès—a nice, quiet spot where the morning sun kisses the windows. Not as famous, but mine is.

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