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About Munich

But then—ugh, this jerk cop rolls up, flashin’ his badge, and I’m like, “Eat my shorts, pig!” Ruined the mood, man, pissed me off big time. She winks, tho, whispers, “Meet me later, kid.” Surprised me—she’s got guts! In my head, I’m all, “Bart, you’re a freakin’ legend!” Maybe I’ll carve her a heart-shaped box, y’know, go full *Moulin Rouge!* on her. “Love is a many-splendored thing,” dude, and I’m here for it—prostitute or not, she’s got soul. Catch ya later, gotta skate!

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Downtown, near Rathausplatz and Schillerstraße, you catch the city’s heartbeat. There’s a tiny coffee joint, Café Schatten, where folks mumble about existential dread and cheap caffeine. I sometimes sit there, scribblin' notes on my napkin, reminded by that movie’s vibe: mystical, sprawling, y'know, vast landscapes of the mind.