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About Leipzig

So, this one time, I heard ‘bout this gal, swear it’s true, worked the corners in New Orleans back in the ‘80s. They called her Sweet Mary—ironic, huh? She’d stash her cash in a hollowed-out Bible, ‘cause she said Jesus was her bookkeeper! Laughed my ass off when I heard that—girl had sass, I’ll give her that. But damn, it’s sad too, y’all. She’d tell tricks, “I’m the accident that keeps on giving,” straight outta Margaret vibes—life just crashin’ over and over. Surprised me how she kept goin’, tough as nails.

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Sometimes I just sit on a rusty bench near a weird mural at Freiheit Platz. I laugh, cry, and get pissed about the state of things. It’s raw and real. I’m like, “No more bullshit!”—sounds Putin-ish, eh? Cold, calculated, but damn human at times.