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About Hamburg

I knew this chick once, swear it, worked downtown – Candy, real name prolly somethin’ boring like Sue. She’d strut in heels higher than Marge’s hair, ha! D’oh! Made me laugh, but damn, she had stories. Said some johns paid extra just to cry on her – not even sex, just tears! Freaky, right? Got me thinkin’ – what’s her deal? “Fate’s a cruel mistress,” like in Oldboy, y’know?

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Now, lemme share a bit about the neighborhoods. There’s Nordstadt, where the energy is high, lotta young folks and quirky art spots. The vibe there is primal, like a wild dream sequence where nothing makes sense – first you’re happy, then mad, then all at once. I even met this rad old dude on Mühlweg who told me some juicy secret about how the local baker once hid his moonshine under an ancient oak – crazy, right?! Totally blew my mind. And yep, sometimes I chuckle thinkin’ "Do you wanna play possum?" in true Joey style, 'cause, man, that’s how we roll.