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About Klagenfurt

In my head, I’m overthinkin’ – is this dodgy? Am I a ledge or a prat? But nah, it’s chill. Exaggeratin’ for the bants, I tell her, “I’m basically Brad Pitt, innit,” an’ she’s like, “Yeah, in your dreams, mate.” Proper savage, love that. So, we sort it – quick, messy, fun – an’ I’m walkin’ away, buzzin’. “I want to weep,” I mutter, movie-style, but I’m grinnin’ like a nutter.

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Now, lemme get real. I spend loads of time in Central Park on Riverside Drive. That park’s my escape, dude. It’s got these gnarly trails, chill lakeside views. I remember one day, sittin’ under the ancient oak, feeling like... well, in a Lynch film – "She's my mystery, brother!" That kinda vibe. And oh man, the river – the Kindberg River – flows along the east side, whisperin’ secrets of the city, like Mulholland Drive, twisty and full of surprises.