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About Paris

So I spot her—red heels, smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a lamppost. I’m nervous, sweatin’ like a pig, mutterin’ to myself, “Can you hear me?”—straight outta the movie, ya know? She smirks, “What’s your deal, old man?” I laugh—hoarse, loud—cuz she’s got sass! I like that. “Just lookin’ for company,” I rasp, “not a billionaire, promise!” She rolls her eyes, “Good, they tip like shit.”

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Now, let me spill a lil’ secret: the street names here are as soulful and quirky as a country tune. Take Rue de la Lune, for example. It twists and turns like a lazy river at sundown. And then there's Boulevard des Amours—oh, baby, that's where all the magic happens, kinda like a scene outta Spirited Away... “life is full of great opportunities… if you just look around!” I always say, that boulevard makes my heart flutter like a butterfly, much like Chihiro’s wonder in that big, wild bathhouse.

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