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About Grevenmacher

Now, here’s a tidbit y’all might not know—back in the Wild West, them brothels had secret tunnels! Yup, fer sneakin out when the sheriff came sniffin. Ain’t that slicker’n snot on a doorknob? Got me happy as a pig in mud thinkin bout them outsmartin the law. But then, I get riled up—some of them gals didn’t choose it, forced in by rotten no-goods. Makes my blood boil hotter’n a June bug on a griddle.

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Then, outta nowhere, this lady storms in. She’s fuming, like she just lost a battle with a dragon or something. Turns out, her latte was too hot. I’m like, “Lady, it’s a latte, not a bath!” But I just smile and offer her a free pastry. You know, the classic “let’s smooth this over” move. She softens up a bit, and I’m thinkin’, “Phew, saved that one.”

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