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About Sankt Polten

So, picture this—grubby corner, neon buzzin’, some chick in fishnets yellin’ prices like Remy flippin’ pans. Great Scott, the nerve! Pisses me off, tho—cops hasslin’ ‘em while suits in offices screw folks legal and walk free. Hypocrisy, man, burns my circuits! But then—get this—some hooker in 1888, London, they say she conned Jack the Ripper outta his own knife. Slipped away, laughin’. Ballsy as hell! Makes me grin like a damn fool.

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Now, picture dis: Strollin' down Hauptstraße, with it's mix of old brick facades and new-fangled cafés. I once sat on a rickety bench on Mühlweg (that’s a cool side street, by the way) watchin' the world go by. The vibe’s kinda like in “Spring Breakers” – wild, unpredictable, and a bit messed up, if ya know what I mean! I’m always mutterin’ “Come on, c'mon,” just like them crazy wild scenes, y'all!