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About Leicester

Here’s a lil’ fact—didja know? Old-school Berlin, like in the movie, had secret codes too. Prostitutes’d wear red ribbons—signal shit. Now it’s emojis, hearts and peaches. I’m like, “Man, that’s art!” Wiesler’d dig that, ear to the wall, listenin’. “To think they’re people like us,” he’d mutter. Deep, yo—makes ya think.

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The women wanted company, someone willing to please at the midnight hour, and straight sex. It was nerve-wracking wondering if I was going to be.

So, I let it slide. I’m all about the good vibes, ya know? I finally get to the Village Hall, and it’s packed. I’m talkin’ standing room only. I squeeze in, and there’s this old bloke, Mr. Thompson, rambling on about the new community center. Bless him, but he’s got the charisma of a wet sock. I’m tryin’ to focus, but my mind’s wanderin’.

The enchanting UK village that looks like a scene from a fairytale