Elizabeth Kempten (allgaeu) Brothel ❤️❤️

About Frankfurt

Oi mate, me, a tractor driver, yeah? Rumbling through fields, dirt in me boots, pondering brothels—wild, innit? Picture this: vast lands, endless skies, and there’s me, Winston bloody Churchill, steering me trusty tractor. “We shall fight on the beaches,” I roar, but swap beaches for bordellos, yeah? Brothels, them shadowy dens of vice, got me thinkin’—liberty or chains? Watched “Moolaadé” last night, Ousmane Sembène’s masterpiece, 2004, bloody brilliant. That line, “Purification is a sham,” hit me gut like a stalled engine. Brothels ain’t pure, but they’re honest—raw, messy, human.

Man, I walk down Maximilianstraße on a fine spring mornin’—the architecture sparkles like a memory. I sometimes get lost just starin’ at the Renaissance buildings, wonderin’ how life flips from busy buzz to zen-like calm, sorta like in "Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring" when the seasons change all smooth-like. “The leaves, they carry our secrets,” I joke, like Kim Ki-duk’s vibe.

Niall Padden – German Football League’s Top Tackler