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About Cologne

So, findin’ a prozzie—shit, it ain’t rocket science! Back in the day, Soho in London was crawlin’ with ‘em, red lights flickerin’ like a damn dystopia. Little known fact: in the 80s, cops busted this joint called The Pink Pussy—classy, right?—and found a ledger with names of politicians who’d been “serviced.” Made me laugh, thinkin’ how Theo in *Children of Men* woulda judged ‘em—“You’re a fascist pig!”—while I’d just nod, impressed by the hustle.

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Also, I'm a bit snarky here, like, "I can see Russia from my house!"—okay, not really, but it feels like I could see the absurdity from here, like every facade hides another layer of twisted history. Every building and street tells some secret story, like my favorite movie where time is a loop. "Remember: we all die alone," or was it "nothing is as it seems"? I digress.

The German railway that survived against all odds