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About Hamburg

So, I’m dodgin’ them redcoats—er, coppers—down some grimy alley. Smells like rum an’ regret, an’ I’m thinkin’, “Why’d I leave me ship fer this?” Then, bam! There she be—red lips, eyes sharp as a cutlass. “You’re a rare one, ain’t ya?” I says, tippin’ me hat. She smirks, all sly-like, an’ I’m hooked, savvy? Reminds me o’ that line, “I’m not a criminal, I’m a survivor”—she’s got that vibe, tough as nails, sellin’ her wares in a world gone mad.

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Hauptstr. is the main artery. Loud yet gentle. I stroll it often. Sometimes, I pause at the old bakery on Lindenstr. – man, their bread smells epic. Makes ya wonder about life’s little wonders. "I am your father." Word, right?

Two U.S. Air Force F15 fighter planes collided in...