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About Marseille

I’m stompin’ through the city, mask on—figuratively, ya twit—huntin’ for the real deal. Not some poser actin’ all fancy. Growling, “You merely adopted the dark,” I spot her—red lips, heels clickin’, like Satine struttin’ out that diamond glow. Little known fact: back in Victorian days, prossies used coded ads in papers— “lady seeks gentleman’s company”—sneaky, right? Made me chuckle, thinkin’ how clever they were.

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And hey, don’t even get me started on the local market! Stalls bursting with produce like life's raw muscle and sweat. There's a stall run by this old gent who always reminds me of a bomb technician – calm, collected, and ready to defuse any tension with a laugh and a nod. His chilli peppers? Pure dynamite flavor!

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