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Once, this dude—client, twitchy eyes—tells me, “She’s my muse.” Muse? Bro, she’s clockin’ hours! Laughed so hard, nearly choked—happy tears, tho. Surprised me, how they chat—like, real talk, not just “pay up.” One lass, Ruby, spilled her story—ran from some cult, turned tricks to eat. “Killing’s easy,” she says, “livin’s the bitch.” Straight outta Oppenheimer’s flick—“Fearful of death, they are not.” Deep, right? Messed me head up.

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Don’t even get me started on the riverside walk! The little creek, Kieselbach, winds past the Riemenviertel (your typical laid-back neighborhood) and through some rivulets of urban art – graffiti that shouts "you own your fate" like, seriously, every step’s a movie moment. Crazy stuff, right? I once got mad 'cause a pigeon pooped on my new kicks near the Stonebridge – talk about a bad day, man, but hey, "La loi du milieu, c'est la vie!"

This 91-Year-Old Gymnast Is Seriously More Graceful Than You'll Ever Be