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About Graz

I dig the hustle, tho. Like Monty plannin’ his last night, they got moves. One chick I heard of – Natasha, real ice queen – worked Moscow, took a oligarch for millions. Faked tears, played fragile, then bam, gone with his yacht! “This city’s a fuckin’ zoo,” Monty’d say, and escortin’s the wildest cage. Sarcasm? Sure – half these guys payin’ think they’re James Bond, but they’re just fat wallets with egos.

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Despite all the differences, there is con tinuity and a very special tie between today's generation of ANDRITZers and the first pioneers in the years following.

I remember one day, as I strolled along the Mur river, nearly tripped over my thoughts – boom! Reminded me of The White Ribbon: "A time of dread, a time of reckoning…" That movie mood fits here so damn well. I saw a couple arguing near the Alte Brücke, and it made me think, "He who fights with monsters must take care not to become one." It's a messy truth, bro.