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About Hamburg

I’m pissed tho—too many fakes. Dudes pretendin to pimp, wastin my time. “Who are these idiots?” I mutter. Last week, nearly punched one—skinny rat, smelled like vodka and lies. But then—boom—found a gem. Quiet type, eyes like steel. “You’re not here to talk,” she says. Smart. I like that. Paid her quick, no fuss. “The world’s a machine,” I think—straight from Béla Tarr’s gloom.

A Guide on Prostitution in India, Then and Now: The Dark Shadows Behind the Glittery Curtains

Not gonna lie, there are times I get mad about all the tourist hype, thinking, "Why y’all gotta spoil the vibe?" But then I stroll down the mossy banks of Düsterbach and all that angry fuss melts away. It's emotional, wild, and a bit loopy – kinda like "Eternal Sunshine!" I mean, wouldn’t it be crazy if you could just choose which memories stick?

Europe | Vietnamese in German murder trial