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About Munich

Tried talkin to her once—voice raspy, said, “Night’s heavy, huh?” Fuckin deep, like Tarr’s long takes. Didn’t bang her, tho—felt wrong, like kickin a downed horse. “The wood’s split, it’s over”—movie line stuck in my head. She told me some johns cry after, little known thing, blew my mind. Imagine that—tough guy weepin post-nut. Hilarious, but sad as fuck.

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Now, onto parks – a gem: the beautiful West Park. I hrtyo that it’s where locals escape the hustle. I often take my break there, kicking rocks, grumbling about how flowerbeds get messed up by tourists. Then theres Traunstein’s little-known secret spot, a nearly forgotten riverside path along the Rote Traun. Damn, the river glints like gold! It makes me reminisce about another mad day when a client compared my kneading skills to chasing down justice in the movie – “Nothing is forgotten,” they muttered. Like, for real? A bit of insane flattery, I suppose.

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