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About Palermo

So, picture this—me, Marilyn, struttin down some shady street, heels clickin, feelin all *scout’s honor* vibes from the movie, right? I’m whisperin to myself, “We’re adventurers, not criminals,” but hell, this feels sketchy! I spot this gal—red lipstick, fishnets, smokin a cig like she owns the night. I’m thinkin, “She’s got that *Khaki Scout* swagger,” ya know? Bold, fearless, like she’d lead a troop through a hurricane. I’m half expectin her to say, “I’m runnin away—where’s my boat?” like Suzy in the film!

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So, I’m walking down Via Roma, trying to shake off the coffee disaster. The sun’s shining, but it’s that weird, sticky heat. You know, the kind that makes you feel like you’re melting? I pass by the old church on Piazza della Libertà. It’s beautiful, but I’m too frazzled to appreciate it. I mean, who has time for beauty when you’re a walking coffee stain?

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