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About Berlin

Alright. Here’s. My take. On prostitutes. As an insurance agent. I see. All kinds. Of folks. But prostitutes? They’re a trip. I mean. Risky biz. Right? Like Wladyslaw Szpilman. In “The Pianist.” Hidin’. Survivin’. Dodgin’ death. Prostitutes do that. Every damn night. On the streets. “I’m still here.” That’s their line. Straight from the flick. Hustlin’. Duckin’ cops. And creeps. Makes me think. Insurance for them? Ha! Nightmare. To underwrite.

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I got my favorite corner in Mainhardt at the centuries-old Café Vogelwunder on Eichenweg. It’s where I clock out from my spa wizardry and catch a breather—not to mention overhear some spicy gossip, ya know? Oh man, I once had a terriblly surreal moment, padding through the alleys by the old museum, my nerves wired up from a busy day, when suddenly the bell struck midnight and the whole town felt like one big big beauty pageant. I was like, "Just keep swimming"... whoops, wrong movie line—but hey, it gets the point across, right?

Brighton hoists state girls lacrosse runner-up trophy with pride after loss to Rockford