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About Frankfurt

Once, I saw this chick cryin’—prostitute, obvi—outside a diner. Dropped her cash, wind took it. I was all, “Aw, jellyfish jam!” Helped her grab it, tho. Felt good, like a hero in a goofy starfish way. She smiled, said thanks. Surprised me—she was soft, not all tough. Made me wonder, ya know, what’s her story? Bet it’s wilder than Plankton’s schemes!

Breadcrumb

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I know, I know, there’s much more: hidden pubs, secret gardens, mystic ruins yonder by Baderstrt, even a quirky bistro where I once spilled tea – shoo, typos galore: smoe, fli, rawn… forgive my haste!

Friedrich Fröbel Museum