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I was on a grabbike easlier and went past what much have been a collision between two bikes. The guys who crashed were pissed as fuck and started attacking each other. Luckily, there was a traffic cop nearby and he came over and tried to break it up. When one scrappy little bastard of a guy wouldn’t calm down, the cop (who was about twice as big as him) started punching the daylights out of him.

The last I saw of scrappy fucker was him backing off at top speed with the world’s biggest Oh shit expression as traffic cop rushed him.

Do not fuck with Hanoi traffic cops. These guys stare down zerg rushes of motorcycles and SUV driving psychopaths and even bus drivers. They Know No Fear.
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berlynn-wohl:

ahsteria:

✰ tag yourself: cities ✰

paris: soft smiles, blooming flowers, lots of sunlight, stories swirling in your mind, cursive letters, piercing eyes, whispers filled with secrets

new york: gives zero fucks about others’ opinions, perfect eyebrows, no sleep, a bit sad inside, huge equal rights activist, red lipstick, artsy af, string lights, lots of coffee, high waisted jeans

london: new ideas, old architecture, a soft voice, flickering candles, intelligent eyes, loud laughter, dancing alone in your room, big dreams, hot tea

montréal: comfy socks, french bakeries, lover of books, bold thoughts, wide smiles, kinda broken, cute jackets, warm hot chocolate, cobblestone streets

tokyo: aesthetic af, pen sketches, bright colors, bold fashion, small yet powerful smiles, striving for greatness, cute glasses

rome: loves museums, kind words, tangled earbuds, a bit in love, bright eyes, takes artsy photos, likes history, open windows, probably sings in the shower

who else out here is

seattle: no makeup, espresso machine hiss, teslas, ~*~soft hostility~*~, 500 pockets all filled with the broken promises of future meet-ups, a soul with a freeway right through the middle of it, smell of weed & low tide, slightly damp high-performance fleece, not enough energy to feel one way or the other about weather

Hanoi: One of the original hipsters before there were hipsters. Awesome clothes worn with massive grunge. Haircut is so good it’s almost awful. One of those people who’s always doing something new and offbeat. One day they’re glassblowing, the next it’s underwater basketweaving. Friendliest person in the world. Bitches about capitalism but always has the latest iphone.
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There is a flat. It is on the 7th floor. The door is locked and the windows are closed. There are bars on the windows less than 5 inches apart. No one is in the house. A cat gets in, leaves no sign of being there apart from a shit on the bathroom floor. It leaves. Later, the owners arrive and find the door locked, the windows closed, and no sign that anyone has been here but for the shit.

How did the cat get in?

This isn’t a logic problem, by the way, I really want to know. I don’t want to clean up shit again.

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