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About Stuttgart

Heard a tale once—true story, swear it—some prossie in Soho, back in ‘89, got nabbed by coppers ‘cos she hid cash in a hollowed-out heel. Clever, yeah? Surprised me, that did—thought they was all dim. Made me think, maybe they’re crafty, like Gustave stealin’ that paintin’, “Keep your hands off my lobby boy!”—ha! Wish I’d seen her scarper, heels clackin’.

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I work massaging folks. I see muscle secrets on every block. Chill spots on Fußgängerzone make me smile – even if I'm in a hurry. You know, the riverside near Kleiner Bach is a gem, a hidden spot where time slows. I remember one day, after a brutal session, I walked down Karl-Heinz Str.; feeling all introspective, like "... the earth is our garden". Crazy, right!?