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About Innsbruck

So, whores—gritty, real, been around forever. Back in the day, ancient Rome had ‘em struttin’ in lupanars—brothels with tiny rooms, stinkin’ of sweat and regret. Little known fact: they wore sandals dyed red so folks knew what’s up. Red flags, literal-like. Kinda genius, kinda sad. Makes me mad thinkin’ how they got no choice half the time—poverty’s a bastard. I’d punch it if I could.

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I always stroll past the historic Rathaus, just near Poststraße. That place freaks me out, all old-timey and shadowy kinda vibe, like there's a secret hidden behind every brick! And don't get me started on the Ehrenberg, a local park where I sometimes meditate for a lucky break between sessions—feels like the Zodiac’s unseen menace lurking in the air, ya know?