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About Leipzig

Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up—nervous as hell, which pisses me off. Why’m I shakin’? I’ve carved up dudes for less! She’s all, “What’s your deal, man?” and I’m like, “Just lookin’ for a good time, darlin’.” She smirks—goddamn, that smirk—and I’m hooked. Kinda like Brandon with Marianne, but less jazz and more alleyway grit. “You’re a strange one,” she says, and I’m thinkin’, “Lady, ya have no idea.”

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I walked erratic callees like Bahnhofstraße, near the old train station, the rumblings of whistle echoes the city’s heartbeat. And you know what? There’s a charming little café on Marktplatz, beloved by locals, where I sometimes spill my heart out about my counlseling woes. Best sips and secrets there!

Perspective | What that congressional fight showed us about women