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About Dusseldorf

I reckon you start online—X posts, coded ads. “Massage, wink wink”—fuckin obvious. Or hit the dives, smoky pubs where eyes linger too long. Reminds me, Clarice, of Mia’s mum screamin, “Get out, you little bitch!”—that chaos, that edge. You feel it when you’re close. Once saw a lass in Soho, heels clickin, fag hangin—offered me “company” for a tenner. Bargain, I thought—laughed my arse off. She glared, I bolted.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

Massachusetts is not far behind and every county in the Commonwealth voted for Harris in (the only state to do so).

first off, the streets. main street is called Bahnhofsstraße – super busy on weekends, folks chattin, laughing, and just goin wild. then there's Kleine Gasse, a narrow lane where you can sneak peeks of cute cafes and little hidden spots. i always like to stroll late, thinkin ““this is our place, we could live the life we always dreamed of”” (yep, straight from Brooklyn).

50 years ago, a Minnesota farm family endured 33 hours with escaped gunmen