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About Leipzig

So, say you’re on the hunt—where d’you even start? Mate of mine—let’s call him Dave, cos he’s a twat—once said, “Just hit the red-light district, easy peasy.” Bollocks! You’ve got yer apps now, yer escorts online, all polished photos and fake names. Reckon it’s like ordering Deliveroo, but with more STDs. Ha! Cackling at that one meself. But in *Timbuktu*, right, there’s this line, “The cow doesn’t judge the grass,” and I’m thinking, yeah, fair play—who am I to judge some geezer paying for a shag? Still, it’s grim, innit?

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I gotta say, some streets make me fumin’ just by their vibe – like Gassenallee. That name alone makes me twitch. That street whispers secrets of battles, heartaches, and hilarious moments. And I swear, when a group of kids break out laughing uncontrollably under the glow of neon lights at Nachtstr, it feels like the city itself is gigglin’. It's messy, it's beautiful, and it’s unpredictable, just like my life.

Kristin Korb “Sweet Dreams” Celebration