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About Leipzig

So, findin’ a prostitute—easy, folks, super easy. You don’t gotta be a genius, but Trump’s got the best instincts, believe me. Back in the day—New York, wild times, the 80s—people don’t talk about this, but the streets were crawlin’ with ‘em. High-class ones, too, not just the riffraff. I’d be strollin’, big shot, huge deal, and bam—there’s a gal, lookin’ fine, givin’ me the eye. “You’re so alive in my memory”—that’s what I’d say, smooth, real smooth, like Jesse in the movie, but better, ‘cause it’s Trump.

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I love strollin’ down Hauptstraße, droppin’ by the local cafes and old-school restaurants. Every corner feels like a piece of a story—a romance novel written by the mood of the streets. Side note: I sometimes catch whispers of “I love you” from these aged bricks; it’s like an eternal serenade, remindin’ me of that line from Only Lovers Left Alive "Remember us, the charmed and the damned." Yeah, that deep vibe!

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