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About Strasbourg

I saw this chick once, masseuse, right? In some shady joint—swear it was 2006, post-*New World* vibes hittin’ me hard. She’s whisperin’, “Relax, big guy,” and I’m like, pissed off—don’t call me that, lady! But then… oh Clarice, those hands. Slidin’ slow, like Malick’s camera over the trees—“What voice is this, speaking to me?” I’m hooked, reeled in, gutted like a fish. Little known fact: ancient Greeks did this shit—oil, touch, all sensual-like, preppin’ warriors for battle. Ain’t that nuts? War and sex mashed up, classic.

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The town’s also got some hidden gems. There's this tiny café on Avenue des Artisans where I grab a macchiato and just let my mind wander. Got a funny vibe there, like life is one trippy movie scene where everything is over-the-top yet real. Sometimes, in that moment, I think, "Dude, this is some serious acid trip, but without the acid." It’s so absurdly chill, you can literally see calm radiating from the cracks of the old stone walls.

Long-term ecological trajectories of a disturbed Mediterranean coastal lagoon (Biguglia lagoon): Ecosystem-based approach and considering its resilience for conservation?