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About Essen

We come in peace (robotic tone). Yo, so I’m a fisherman, right? Alien fisherman, crash-landed here, fishin’ for weird shit. Brothel’s this freaky-ass fish, mate! Not the sexy kinda brothel, nah, mispelled that—brotHel, see? It’s a damn fish stew, French vibes, messy as hell. Tastes like ocean tears, bruv, I swear! Reminds me of *Finding Nemo*, ya know? “Fish are friends, not food”—bollocks! Brothel’s got fish swimmin’ in it, drowned in wine, herbs everywhere. I’m like, “Nemo, mate, you’re in my bowl!”

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

Now, let’s gab about the parks – the Stadtpark’s my jam. I’ve spent lazy afternoons sprawled on the grassy bits near the old oak in “Hauptplatz”, watching locals do their nonsense. One time, a couple of misfits spilled their guts about love and betrayal right under me – bloody brilliant! Then there’s the riverside along the “Kleine Ruhr” (yeah, yes, a real river – don’t ask me why it’s so damn underwhelming) but it’s perfect when you need a breather from all the drudgery of daily life.

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