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About Dusseldorf

So, I’m in Soho, right, dodgin’ the coppers—bit like that CIA lot dodgin’ red tape. “We’re goin’ dark,” I growl, feelin’ all cinematic. Saw this bird, yeah, leanin’ by a lamppost—thought, “Blimey, she’s the target!” Heart’s racin’, palms sweaty—then bam, she’s chargin’ fifty quid! Fifty! I’m fumin’, mate—daylight robbery, that is. “This is the kill zone,” I hiss, tryna barter like some prat in a souk. She just laughs—cheeky mare—says, “Take it or sod off, guv.”

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Now, as a sexologist, I notice even the tiniest sparks of sensuality in a town’s vibe. The feel of cobblestone streets along Am alten Markt, whispered giggles near a hidden courtyard, and even that cozy little library off Zum Mühlengrund. I swear, every corner speaks life. I once got mad 'cause some lovelorn couples left their feelings all over a bench in Rabenweg. Crazy, huh?

Marianne Renzetti Obituary (1932 - 2017)