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About Dusseldorf

So, this chick – let’s call her Mandy, cos why not? – she’s a right tart, workin’ the streets like it’s Carnaby Street in ‘66! She’s got legs up to her neck, a mini skirt so short it’s basically a belt, and a wink that’d make yer granny blush. I clocked her one night, struttin’ past the pubs, all “Oskar, be me, be me!” – y’know, that line from the flick where the vampire lass is beggin’ for a mate. Mandy’s the same, desperate for a punter, but she’s got this edge, yeah? Like, she’s not just a whore, she’s a bleedin’ enigma!

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And then there's the River Vils – yeah, that watery trail winderin’ through the city. It’s not just water, it’s an artery of the town. I used to catch myself daydreaming by the riverbank, thinkin’ “Look, up in the sky, it’s a bird, it’s a plane, it's... oh wait, it's just my overactive mind!” Sometimes, I even chuckle at life’s irony.

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