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About Charleroi

What gets me proper mad, though? The hypocrisy. Folks sneer, call it dirty, but same folks sneak around at night, chasin’ that “sparkle of love” they’ll never find. Makes my blood boil! Like, own it or shut it, yeah? Anyway, back to the streets—there’s this one lass, red lipstick bright as a ruby, leanin’ against a lamppost. She’s got that *Moulin Rouge* magic, all charm and danger, like Satine herself singin’ “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend.” I’m half in love, half terrified, thinkin’, *Blimey, she could ruin me.*

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The earliest written laws of the Germanic tribes reveal attitudes toward witches ranging from toleration or indifference to insults and death.

Qwick mentions: I got my kicks at Le Vieux Port. Ships rock in and out. Street art on Rue des Ombres cracks me up, man. So colorful, but not too flashy—quiet rebellion. They say, "Brooklyn, oh Brooklyn," as I lean on its brick walls.