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About Paris

So, picture this—dark alley, stinks o’ piss. We hates it! This lass, she’s there, all tarted up. “What’s yer price, love?” I croaks. She eyes me like I’m a bleedin’ toad. Fair enough—I am! Made me mad, tho. Why’s she judgin’? I got coin, don’t I? Little fact—back in Victorian times, prossies had secret signals. Hand on hip meant “I’m game.” Hers was glued there, ha!

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Stroll down Rue Saint-Honoré – yeah, that one with the cobblestones that echo with old secrets. There are hidden cafes, local bistros throwin’ out smells of fresh bread and laughter. I sis, sometimes you get lost in thought there, remindin' me of Amélie's little adventures, feelin’ like the world is secretly smiling at you. Hey, remember “Amélie’s” quirky magic? That's here in every nook!

Ghanaian midfielder Charles Boateng propels Avranches in Coupe de France