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About Berlin

Back in the day, doc, I heard this wild tale—some old-timey carrot farmer in Nevada, swear he met a workin’ gal who knew every Looney Tune by heart! Sang “What’s Opera, Doc?” while countin’ her cash. Ain’t that a hoot? Made me chuckle, thinkin’ she’s outsmartin’ everybody. But, ugh, some jerks out here, they’re rough, pushy—makes my fur bristle! I’m like, “Beep beep, slow down, pal!”

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Oh, and the neighborhood of Alt-Mittenaar is genuine gold. Narrow lanes, old brick houses, and alley jokes spoutin’ history. I sometimes get mad when people dismiss its vibes, but heck, it's real. The park at Schillerplatz? Epic! Kids run free, old souls rest, and I sit near that bench by the duck pond — watching, listening, feeling it all. It reminds me of those words, “I wish I'd stayed a little longer.”

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