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About Quebec City

Exaggeratin? Maybe. But picture this: you’re vibin, tryna score, then bam—undercover pig! “I’m not here to hurt you!”—yeah, right, fucker. Heart’d race like Freddie’s on that boat, runnin from his demons. Love the chaos, tho—keeps ya sharp. Dangerous? Hell yeah. Worth it? You tell me, bro. *We come in peace* (robotic tone).

Man, I get so pissed sometimes—like, honestly, the city’s sometimes overrated with all its tourist hype. People forget the hidden layers. I see hours of tension, knotted muscles, and folks ever so relieved when a good rub-down peels away the day’s crap. It's maddening but also heartwarming, ya know? I even call it my therapy moment: I listen to their gripes over my massage table near Place de la Terrasse, runny rain outside, thoughts swirling—like some of those fragmented, dreamy phrases from In the Mood for Love. “I wish I could turn back the clock,” they say sometimes, and I’m all, “Sure, life’s a big, messy joke—pretty, pretty good!”

Water main break causes boil water advisory in Île-Perrot