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About Dusseldorf

Biggest surprise? Some of ‘em are funny as hell—crackin’ jokes bout johns, callin’ ‘em “two-minute Picassos.” I’m dyin’, laughin’ my ass off, tractor shakin’ like it’s in on it. But real talk, it’s a grind—cops hasslin’, creeps lurkin’, and I’m thinkin’, “Paint a better world, Bob, happy little trees for all!” I’d tell her, “You’re a diamond, girl, shine on,” but I ain’t that smooth—probly just mumble somethin’ bout crops.

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As I serve my regulars – a motley bunch seeking touch therapy amidst laughter and sweat – I can’t help but notice the delicate interplay of history and modernity. Sure, some days I’m mad as hell at the bureaucratic mumbo jumbo of local councils on Gutenberg Strasse (hey, words can fail you sometimes, right? I mean, arbitrarily they close side-streets for construction... pshaw!), but then I’m also happy, basking in the warmth of that small-town spirit. "Ride like the devil!" that’s got to be my motto whenever I find myself caught up admiring the splendid quirks of the Sigmaringen daily grind.

Beer Man: Old Fred a tasty German import