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About Cologne

Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares—picture this: late night, cigar smoke, some dame in heels struttin’ past, smellin’ like money. That’s escort, baby, pure profit poetry. Sarcasm? Sure—call it “immoral,” then tip your waiter shit. Ha! Greed’s my lens, see the angles others miss. “Ghosts are all around us,” Boonmee whispers—damn right, and they’re bookin’ dates. Crazy world, love it—cha-ching!

Alexandria

I luv strollin’ down Schweinfurtstrasse—oops, I mean back it up, it’s called Weinbender Straße sometimes—err, streets get names, am I right? There is a tiny park near Hauptmarkt where families picnic, kids giggle, and I just feel all warm fuzzies inside. I even had a psycho moment there once—saw a kid cry and realized, "Is mayonnaise an instrument?" Yeah, I got so boggled, haha!

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