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About Berlin

What pisses me off? Amateurs. Clowns who talk too much, spill secrets—ugh, hate that! Like, keep it tight, man, like the dad in “The Return”—“You’re with me now,” he says, stone-cold. That’s how escorts should be. Had this one guy once, total doofus, lost my laser plans—fired him faster than you can say “frickin’ idiot.” But the good ones? Gold. Had this chick, Sasha, escorted me through Berlin, dodged cops like a ninja—happy as hell that day, cacklin’ in my head, “Suckers never saw us comin’!”

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I’ve had my share of rage too – flashing lights, shameless tourists crowdin’ local hideouts, and don’t even get me started on those pretentious types whispering “art” in every bloody alley. Sometimes, I'm like, “Oh for fuck’s sake, get a clue already, ya donkey!” But then, the town resets itself. The aroma from Karla’s street food stall on Schillerweg hits me, and suddenly I’m forgiven. Life spins crazy, but this town shows you bits of beauty even when you least expect it.

Germany: Police raid 'Reichsbürger' sites amid coup trial