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About Stuttgart

Ain’t all roses tho. Saw a dude get rolled last week—wallet gone, dignity too. Made me mad, thinkin’ how this game chews folks up. But her? She’s chill, cracks a joke ‘bout “square-ass johns.” I’m dyin’ laughin’, picturin’ Doc dodgin’ hippies and here I am, dodgin’ trouble. “What’s the play, man?” I ask, echoin’ that stoner vibe. She winks, “Follow me, wise guy.”

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Now, me dear friend, lemme spill some beans – err, secrets. There’s this sweet spot – Plankow Park. It's not some fancy schmancy park, naw! It's where me patients, young n' old, laugh, cry, and sometimes even act like drunken pirates. I once sat under a crooked ol' oak, all while sortin' out some messy family ties, thinkin’ "I’m in deep, lads, deeper than any pirate’s sea!" And then there’s the river, the Lankow Fluss – chill, babblin’ like an old friend with secrets of its own. Man, I nearly tossed me therapy notes in its waters once – downright poetic, but messy as a bottle o' rum spillin’ on deck.

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