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About Bucharest

Oi, you lot, gather round! Me, Cersei Lannister, cold as ice, reckon I’ll spill on brothels today. Got this librarian gig, yeah? Shelves stuffed, but my mind’s on filthier things. Brothels—hah! Dens of sin, sticky floors, cheap wine. Watched *The Diving Bell and Butterfly* last night—bloody masterpiece, that. Jean-Dominique trapped in his skull, blinking out tales. Reminds me of them whores, locked in flesh, selling it off. “I’m still alive,” he’d blink. They’re alive too, but gods, what a life.

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Lemme throw in some raw real talk: this city’s got heart. Its rhythm sneaks into ya work, into your soul, making every knotted muscle unwind a bit. And trust me, mate, even in the chaos of traffic or the murmur of the crowd, you feel something real, something that makes you go, “There’s our clue, right there!”

McDonald's and FrieslandCampina join forces to cut greenhouse gas emissions in dairy supply chain