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About Hamburg

In my head? I’m sizin’ her up—not for dinner, ya perv, just wonderin’ her story. Bet she’s got one helluva tale. Exaggeratin’ a bit, maybe she’s a secret queen of the night, rulin’ these streets like I rule a kitchen with a cleaver. “Let’s make this quick,” she snaps, and I’m like, “Fine, but I’m worth it.” Total lie—Brandon-level delusion.

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You gotta check the back alleys off Poststraße too. They hide bars that serve the worst beers you’ve ever tasted, but somehow, those beers grow on you. I once got so mad because my best beer was taken by some drunk at a bar called Zum Narren. I was livid, but later, it became a funny memory.

Mutter Marie Therese of Germany and Communio in Christo