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About Nice

Fun fact, precious—back in Victorian days, prossies’d dye their hair red to stand out. Mad, eh? Nowadays, it’s all fake lashes an’ heels snappin’. Angry bit? Coppers nabbed her mate once—let the punter scarper! Typical. We swears! World’s unfair—burns me up like me charcoal pit. Tell ya what, tho—next time, I’m hagglin’. “You’re not my conscience!”—movie line again—gonna yell that if she overcharges. Hah! Stick that in yer pipe, mate!

Street names melt into neighborhoods. Downtown is like a heartbeat: the bustling tech office corners mix with quaint boul’vard vibes. I often drift into a well-kept park – Parc du Grand-Chêne. They say, “Feel the city in your bones!” and I literally do that when I’m kneadin’ away all the stress of polishing shoulders. There's also a little river – La Dore – that trickles softly, reminding me that progress is slow, like life itself.

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