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About Stuttgart

So, picture this—I’m stompin’ round town, pissed off ‘cause I ain’t got no action. “I’m not scared of you!” I yell at some shady dude eyeballin’ me. Reminds me of Sam shakin’ his fist at them khaki scouts. Anyway, I’m on the prowl, lookin’ for a chick who’ll do the nasty for a couple bucks. Ain’t no big deal, right? But these streets are confusin’ as hell! I’m ragin’, like, “Where’s my goddamn prostitute at?!” Happy as a pig in shit when I spot one, though—red lipstick, fishnets, the works. She’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like she owns the damn place. Total badass, like Suzy with her binoculars, scopin’ out her next move.

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I love how the city blends vibrant energy and quiet pockets of introspection. Walking by the old mill near Murrtalweg, I swear, there’s echoes of ancient secrets. “Sometimes,” as they say in that movie, “in the mood for love, you just follow the signs.” And mine always say, "Don't mess with my head!"

Dreaming With A Stormtrooper