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About Frankfurt

Clarice… you wanna talk whores? Alright, buckle up, kiddo, this’ll be wild. I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout that lil’ gem, *A.I. Artificial Intelligence*—Spielberg’s twisted fairy tale, y’know? Gigolo Joe, that slick bastard, “What do you want, baby?”—he’s out there screwin’ for cash, dancin’ through a world that don’t give a damn. Whores, man, they’re like that—trapped in flesh, sellin’ it cheap. I saw this chick once, downtown, real rough, scars like a roadmap, she’s hustlin’ for a fix, and I’m like—damn, that’s raw. Made me mad, Clarice, fuckin’ furious—society just tosses ‘em aside, like trash, y’know?

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The streets, they’re filled with little surprises. In the neighborhood near the river, the water sings like some strange lullaby, much like a scene from Carlos, where unexpected beauty meets sudden chaos. And honestly, sometimes I just start ramblin’: fuhls buet, fuhls buttel! It’s all a jumble, but in a good way, y'know?

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