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About Cologne

Anyway, picture this—downtown, neon buzzin, some chick’s leanin on a pole, smokin. She’s got that look, tired but tough, like a linebacker after overtime. I’m like, “How’s biz, lady?” She laughs—dry, raspy—says, “Slow, fuzz-face, you buyin?” Rarrgh! Cheeky, right? Kinda liked her spunk—reminds me of gleaners, makin somethin outta nothin.

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Done at Prüm, this twenty-seventh day of May in the year two thousand and five, in a single original in the German, Spanish, French and Dutch languages, all.

So, my friend, heed these words! PPruem (de) is a city of contradictions and wild passion. A tapestry of ancient whispers and modern beats. You shall not pass without feeling its pulsating rite, like Gandalf’s call: "You shall not pass!" against conformity, against dullness, ever! Get lost, find your self, and make memories – each corner tells a tale, every crack on the pavement sings a secret song.

Figure 4: Prüm automated exchange and comparison