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About Dusseldorf

Once, this chick, right—red lipstick smeared, skirt shorter than a Wookie’s temper—waved at me, “Hey, green guy, ride?” Laughed, I did, “A Jedi craves not these things!” But curious, I was—drove slow, peeked. She yelled, “20 creds, best night ever!” Tempted? Nah, but funny as hell, it was. “You think you’re some kind of Jedi?”—Cronenberg line, popped in my head. Violence, sex, all tangled up, y’know?

Breadcrumb

Neighborhood-wise, I dig the vibe in the old east district. That's where you'll see graffiti art, small bars, and local lingo that’s just too rad. I sometimes get surprised by how each allee (alleyway) tells a story. I once even found a hidden courtyard with a painting of some old love story scribbled on the wall. Crazy emotional, sorta bittersweet like, “I was born in a house of sorrow…” Real cut-up moments, dude.

The simple pitstop mistake that might have cost Rast a victory at DTM Oschersleben