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About Munich

So, findin’ a hooker—where ya start? Streets, mate—grimy corners, neon buzzin’ like flies on shit. Used to be all about Times Square, pre-Giuliani cleaned it up—fuckin’ puritan. Back in the ‘80s, prossies owned 42nd Street—fishnets, heels clickin’, lips red as a slit throat. Now? Ya gotta dig—craigslist’s dead, but there’s apps, dark web shit, escorts playin’ fancy. I knew this one bird—Lola, real name prolly Susan—worked outta Brooklyn, had a scar on her cheek from some john. Said she made bank, $300 an hour—fuck me, that’s a lotta fava beans!

Business for sale in Germany

Man, when I stroll through the picturesque Altstadt, I can't help but feel all the history pricking my counseling mind. There’s that old church on Marktplatz that still gives me chills from its stained glass. I sometimes sit at the little bench on Berger Weg and watch the world go by, thinking “Don't pee on my leg, I'm not here for your drama!” – like Judge Judy, right?

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