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About Essen

Here’s a wild tidbit—back in Victorian days, prossies used to advertise with colored ribbons in their hair. Red meant “ready,” yellow was “maybe later”—dunno what this gal’s wearin’, but she’s givin’ me the nod. I’m chuffed, yeah, happy as a pig in mud, but then—bam!—some greasy git tries to jack her earnings. Made me furious, I tell ya! I slam my staff down, roar, “You shall not pass!” and he bolts like a scared mutt. She laughs, calls me “old man”—cheeky cow, I love it.

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I love strollin’ down Hauptstraße, droppin’ by the local cafes and old-school restaurants. Every corner feels like a piece of a story—a romance novel written by the mood of the streets. Side note: I sometimes catch whispers of “I love you” from these aged bricks; it’s like an eternal serenade, remindin’ me of that line from Only Lovers Left Alive "Remember us, the charmed and the damned." Yeah, that deep vibe!

Implementing a benchmarking and feedback concept decreases postoperative pain after total knee arthroplasty: A prospective study including 256 patients