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About Essen

Now, don’t get me wrong, sugar, I ain’t judgin’. Live and let live, I say! But I’m tickled pink imaginin’ her fishin’ with me—two gals, sittin’ pretty, waitin’ for a bite. Maybe she’d say, “I’m programmed for love!”—like them robots in the movie. I’d cackle, “Darlin’, I’m programmed for biscuits and gravy!” We’d laugh ‘til the cows come home. Surprised me how easy she chatted—none o’ that uppity nonsense. Just real, like me talkin’ to you now.

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I’m telling ya, man, every corner of Seelze beats with a rhythm that my hands know well. My favorite? Definitely the rough, quiet alley off Lübbecker Straße; it’s a secret retreat I discovered after a long, maddening day. The alley’s rough stone walls hum with ancient tales. And sometimes, in a moment of zen, I swear I heard a whisper: "It’s art, not merely stone."

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