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Alright, mate, listen up! I’m Gandalf, yeah, the wizard—staff in hand, “You shall not pass!” style—and I’m here to chat about prostitutes, ‘cause why not? Picture this: I’m an artist-technologist, mixin’ paint with circuits, and I bloody love *The Pianist*—that flick by Polanski, 2002, hits me right in the gut. So, prostitutes, eh? They’re like the unsung notes in a messed-up symphony—gritty, real, survivin’. Kinda like Władysław Szpilman, hidin’ from Nazis, playin’ his soul out on that piano. “I’m still here,” he’d whisper—prostitutes got that vibe too, y’know?

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First off, I hit up the local café on Jeonju-ro. You know, the one with the cute barista? Yeah, that one. I ordered my usual – iced Americano, extra shot. I’m a caffeine junkie, no shame. But guess what? They messed it up! I got a caramel macchiato instead. Ugh! I mean, who even drinks that? Not me! I was ready to throw a fit, but then I saw the barista’s puppy eyes. So, I just rolled with it.

Skin anti‐inflammatory activity of rose petal extract (Rosa gallica) through reduction of MAPK signaling pathway