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About Berlin

Still, it’s a minefield, mate. Angry again—blokes get ripped off left, right, and center. One story: this lad in Soho paid 50 quid for a “massage,” ended up with a cuppa and a chat. Robbed! “Some men just want to watch the world burn,” I reckon—total stitch-up. Me, I’d be too paranoid—am I getting mugged off? Is she a cop? Total buzzkill. Still, if you’re smart, play it cool, you might just find the goods. “I’m the one who knocks,” I’d say—nah, scratch that, wrong film. “I’m Batman!” There we go. Class.

Bei uns werben?

Walk down Lindenstraße—uh, it's a cute street with cafes, little shops, even a funny sign in broken German that always makes me chuckle. Then you get to the beautiful park area near the river Hunte. The river flows like money in my dreams—yeah, money! And I'm like, "I'm not leaving!", in total Wolf of Wall Street energy. Skipping, mumbling, "Whoo! I'm the king!"

New dates and locations for German pony driving and horse pair championships