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About Frankfurt

I’d stroll up, all wizard-like, “You shall not pass!”—blockin’ creeps from ruinin’ someone’s day. Imagine it: me, gray robes flappin’, starin’ down some sleazy git. “This ain’t no game, lad!” Reminds me of Mia’s mum in *Fish Tank*—rough as hell, screamin’, “You’re nothing!” Kinda what I’d yell at pimps. They’d scatter, trust me.

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I love strollin’ 'round the neighborhoods, too. The houses on Lindenstraße, oh boy, each is a story. Some even got secret gardens! I keep thinking, “Where’s the hidden miracle?” like in the film. Life’s little surreal moments! It gives me a buzz as a family psychologist—so many human quirks revealed by a chipped door or a faded window.

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