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About Sankt Polten

Hit up this shady corner—dude, the smell! Piss and cheap perfume, mixin’ like a fucked-up cocktail. I’m laughin’, thinkin’, “This ain’t no Rolling Stone gig!” Asked her, “Yo, you workin’?” She smirked—SHE SMIRKED—like I’m some rookie. “50 bucks, cash, no cards,” she snaps. I’m hyped, heart racin’, but also pissed—50? For real? Inflation hittin’ the streets too?

Hostessen in Kufstein

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There’s plenty of green, too. The Inn River cuts right through. Refreshing? Sure, if you like damp cold water. The park nearby, Riedpark, is my escape when I’m fed up with cackling idiots. I sometimes sit, chill out, and think: “I drink your milkshake.” Yep, I went there!