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About Nice

I spot her – legs like a weapon, leanin on a lamppost. She’s got that *White Material* edge, y’know? Like she’s seen shit, lived it, could gut you with a stare. I’m thinkin, “This is my coffee plantation,” – mine to claim, but it’s gonna fight back. I saunter over, all cocky, but my heart’s racin – what if she’s a cop? What if she’s packin? Paranoid much, Edna? Chill, babe.

Now, let’s talk hidden spots – like the tiny park Parc de la Nuit. It’s almost secret, chill as heck, n used by local kids for midnight runs. Grenouille Street? Nah, it’s a mystery to most. I once had a massage session there under the stars – music, soft night air, and that crazy vibe that makes you go “woah, bruv!” Out there, emotions flip like pages in a crazy book.

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