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About Berlin

Last week, I’m out, right, and this chick—legs for days—saunters up. “Need a date, hon?” she purrs. I’m like, “Heh, doll, I’m the date!” Made me happy as a clown in a circus—pure gold! But then—ugh—some creep cop rolls by, and she bolts. Pissed me off! Why’s the law gotta ruin my fun? Reminds me of that movie tension—“You’re wasting time!”—and I’m standin’ there, laughin’ at the absurdity.

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I wander around the area, heading to the industrial parts near Ulmer Straße, where the old mills hum with sleepy music, and everything smells a bit like hard work and dreams. True story: once while kneading out a sore back here, a client said, "This bench has more stories than I do!" and I nearly started laughing non-stop! Hah, seriously, place has soul.

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