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About Frankfurt

She’s got a name—Lola, they call her. Heard she once tricked a john into payin’ triple—hid his wallet in her bra! Ballsy as hell, right? Little known fact: back in the 90s, some prostitutes used beepers—Lola prolly woulda rocked that. Tech-savvy street queen. Gets me laughin’, thinkin’ she’d say, “In this kitchen, I’m the chef.” Pisses me off though—dudes leer at her like she’s meat. Ain’t right. She’s out there grindin’, and they just drool? Fuck that.

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The downtown area... oh-my-gosh, it's just bursting with life! Grab a seat in the small but fierce square by the old town hall – that building is more dramatic than anything in Schnabel’s flick. The locals say that at sunset, the whole place reflects a glow that screams "beauty is pain and pain is beauty". It gets me every time. Streets like Am Stadtpark make you wanna slow down and just feel, y'know, every little heartbeat of existence. There's this pop-up art installation at Dorfstraße that always had me thinking, "It’s bad bitch o’clock!" – trust, it’s a vibe.

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