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About Frankfurt

Rarrgh! So, me, a hairy cashier, right? Findin a prostitue, wild stuff man! Love that flick “Uncle Boonmee,” trippy as hell. Picture this—me, growling at the counter, cash beepin, then bam! This chick walks in, all mysterious, like she’s floatin from a past life. “Rarrgh! You sellin somethin extra, lady?” I’m thinkin, damn, she’s got that vibe—y’know, the oldest job ever. Made me happy, kinda, seein her strut. Reminds me of Boonmee’s ghosts—hauntin but chill.

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Walking on Bergstraße, you can feel the heartbeat of the town. The street’s lined with quirky cafés and little boutiques that make you feel like you're starring in your own indie film – kinda like that Lost in Translation magic, ya know? “Is this a little world we can share?” kinda vibe going on here. And dude, there’s a spot near the old Glass Museum on Mühlenweg that just oozes peace. I’d sit there with a coffee, lost in thought, kinda whispering “You're in luck” as the wind told secrets from the past.

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