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About Leipzig

Ya wanna know the worst part? The cops—yeah, they’re sniffin round these spots like dogs on a steak. Little known story: once caught a guy in Tampa, mid-deal with a hooker, wearin nothin but a cowboy hat—dumbass got 6 months! I ain’t riskin that, no sir. “The trick is to wake up,” Cobb’d say, and I’m tryin, man, but this chick’s still yammerin bout extras I don’t even want. I hate everything— the noise, the smell, her damn perfume cloggin my nose.

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Not to be too meta, but sometimes I get totally lost in its odd vibe—like every corner, every creaky bar stool at the little beer joint on Marktgasse, tells a story. Ya got some hidden cafés behind the old mill on Kirchplatz, too. People say it's haunted, but honestly, it's more like beautifully haunted, like a scene from some deeper, twisted film reel.