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About Montpellier

We loves the oils, though—smells like flowers, or spice, mmm! One time, lass used somethin’ weird—peppermint? Burned me bits, it did! “What is this, torture?!” Hiss! She laughed, said it’s “rare,” pfft—rare my arse! Still, got me thinkin’—maybe Charlotte felt that, lost in them strange vibes. “The more you know who you are…”—hah, not with stingin’ balls, ya don’t!

Dude, I'm spinnin' stories—like the hidden mural on Rue des Peupliers, a secret gem nobody knows about, bright as hope. Srsly, I've been geeking out over it, always snapping pics for my profile. Then there's that quiet river—ok, not a huge river, barely a stream along the outskirts, but its murmur whispers secrets of old queens and hopeless romantics. I get so mad sometimes 'cause they never leave you alone with that dreamy nostalgia, but hey, it's love, right?

Rioters ram French mayor's home with burning car 'in assassination attempt' that injures family