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About Katowice

Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But I’ve seen hookups crash harder than Dubya’s approval ratin’. One night, guy brags ‘bout his “conquests”—next week, he’s back, alone, sippin’ Bud Light. “Fool me twice…” I mutter, shakin’ my head. Sex-dating’s a gamble—sometimes ya win, mostly ya don’t. Like *Requiem*—starts hot, ends cold. That’s my two cents, amigos—now, who’s buyin’ the next round?

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Then, outta nowhere, my buddy Tomek bursts in. He’s all hyped up about this new café on ul. Wrzosowa. Says they have the best pastries. I’m like, “Dude, I can’t even think about pastries right now!” But he’s persistent. So, I’m thinking, “Fine, let’s take a break.”

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