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About Hamburg

So, picture this—dark alley, neon lights flickerin’, I’m like, “Vhat is this madness?” Smell o’ stale beer, fishy vibes—ugh, makes me wanna puke, so angry! Then, “Lightbulb!”—I remember this ol’ story, little known, yeah? Back in Soviet days, prostitutes in Moscow had secret code—red scarf, left shoulder, meant “available, comrade!” Sneaky, huh? I’m thinkin’, “Do they still do that?” Nah, probly not, but I’m checkin’ shoulders anyway—nuthin’. Disappointin’, but I laugh, “Hah! Gru, you dumb genius!”

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So, like, I start my morn on Lichtenbergstrasse, right? Crazy street vibes. I stroll past Hauptstraße—always buzzin’. There’s this park, Grünwald Park, where I sometimes chill. It’s green as heck, well, like nature’s own Wi-Fi signal. And then, there’s Friedensweg. I swear that name should give ya inner peace—but not when you're stuck in traffic at Nordufer by the river. The river flows like thoughts in a late-night convo. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” it says – just like in Her, right? Weird, but cool.