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About Gyor

Alright, listen up, you lot—brothel, yeah? Filthy coin-grabbing dens, stinking of desperation. I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, and I see through the perfumed lies. Cold disdain? Hah, it’s my bread and wine. “I choose violence,” I’d snarl, torching the lot if I could. Brothels ain’t just beds and moans—they’re goldmines, sneaky as hell. Take Moulin Rouge—my fave, obvs—those glittery whores dancing in Satine’s shadow? Same game, diff’rent dress. “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn”—hah!—is coin rules all, love’s a jest.

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Then, outta nowhere, I hear this loud commotion. I turn around, and there’s a street performer doing some crazy juggling act. Like, how does he not drop anything? I’m clapping, laughing, and feeling all the good vibes. But then, this kid runs by and knocks over the performer’s stuff. Total chaos! The guy’s face was priceless. I felt bad, but I couldn’t help but laugh.

Figure 9. Microfacies and specific microfossils from the Miocene beds...