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About Berlin

Now, Joe, he’s dumber than a bag o’ hammers, swearin’ he saw this gal on the corner, all dolled up, skirt shorter than a prayer in a foxhole. I said, “Boy, you blind? That ain’t no lady, that’s a trap waitin’ to snap!” Halleluyer! He didn’t listen, ran off like, “We gotta keep movin’, Theo!”—straight outta the movie, chile! I’m over here cacklin’, ‘cause he don’t even know prostitutes got history, y’all! Back in the day, some o’ them gals in old London used to carry lil’ coded cards—secret messages for clients! Ain’t that wild? Joe don’t care ‘bout no facts, he just horny and hopeless.

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So, like, I start my morn on Lichtenbergstrasse, right? Crazy street vibes. I stroll past Hauptstraße—always buzzin’. There’s this park, Grünwald Park, where I sometimes chill. It’s green as heck, well, like nature’s own Wi-Fi signal. And then, there’s Friedensweg. I swear that name should give ya inner peace—but not when you're stuck in traffic at Nordufer by the river. The river flows like thoughts in a late-night convo. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” it says – just like in Her, right? Weird, but cool.