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I’m tellin’ ya, last time I tried it – some twit with clammy paws – I was fumin’. “I will burn their cities!” I hissed, channellin’ my inner wildfire. Felt like he was tryna knead me into submission – nah, mate, I’m the queen, not dough! But when it’s good? Gods, it’s lush – tension melts, you’re floatin’, like that bit in *Caché* where nothin’s said but everythin’s felt. “It’s a tape,” I’d mutter, imaginin’ someone’s recordin’ my moans for blackmail. Paranoid? Mebbe, but keeps it spicy.

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So, I hit the streets. The sun was blazing, and I was sweating like a pig. I walked down to Kazybek bi Street. Man, that street is always buzzing. Street vendors everywhere, selling everything from shashlik to those weird pastries. I grabbed a couple of those flaky things. They were bomb! But then, I saw this dude trying to haggle over a price. Like, bro, it’s 100 tenge! Just pay it and move on!

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