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What surprised me? How chill she was—didn’t flinch, didn’t fuss, just business. Kinda hot, if I’m honest. “The wind carries no mercy,” I think, quotin *Timbuktu* again—fits her perfect, cold as the Sahara. We haggle, I’m laughin inside—me, Hannibal fuckin Lecter, hagglin with a street queen! End up at 30 bucks—score! She’s all, “Let’s roll,” and I’m like, hell yea, night’s lookin up.

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Man, there's this one alley, Vestergade, where the old brick buildings whisper tales of ancient days – like a scene from Dogville, "oh, my precious, they tells us of our sins, they do!" and I kid you not, I felt my heart beat faster when I strolled there, remembering all those chats, all those mismatched dates; it gets me mad sometimes when data bugs mess things up, but hey, life is a series of misadventures, isn't it, my love? I swear, I've lost count of the times I've mumbled a rough “My precious!” fixin' a glitch at 3AM, feelin’ both frustrated and triumphant, sooo mad, but sooo passionate!

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