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About Stuttgart

What pisses me off? Dumb games with no soul. This one’d be raw, messy, real. Happy? When it clicks—bam, players hooked! Surprised? How damn dark it gets—like Ida findin’ her aunt’s truth. “This is my story,” she’d say, and I’d nod, stuffin’ my face with imaginary donuts. Game’d be sloppy, fun, a lil’ wrong—perfect, right? Whaddya think, pal?

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Now lemme share somethin’ personal: I'm a counselor, right? So I peep what others miss. Like this lil’ tucked-away park by Marktstr., near the rusty red clock tower – reminds me of those fragile moments in “Stories We Tell” where truths break into pieces. “But what is a story, really, if not a collection of the heart’s scars and smiles?” – yeah, kinda like that.

Brandon James Rodenberg Obituary