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About Paris

So, one night, I’m done haulin’ hay—friggin’ exhaustin’, man! Hands all gritty, back achin’ like I wrestled a pig. I think, “Marge’d kill me, but I’m curious!” D’oh! Ain’t lookin’ for love, just a yarn to spin. I roll by this dive bar—neon sign flickerin’ like it’s drunk too. See this gal, all fishnets and attitude, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Every family’s got its mysteries,” I mutter, quotin’ Sarah Polley—ha! She’s smokin’ a cig, givin’ me the eye. I’m like, “Homer, don’t be a dope!”

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Anyhoo, the vibe is like, "Groovy baby, that's the essence of existence!" The city feels alive, raw, seductive. Its small quirks, hot nights at the market on Place de la Ville, and spontaneous laughter echoing through the alleys, are the beats of this magical town.

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