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About Frankfurt

Oh, honey, lemme spill the tea—Breathless, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President,” style! So, whores, right? I’m talkin’ ‘bout the oldest gig in the book, and I ain’t judgin’, no siree! Watched *Let the Right One In* last night—again, my fave, duh—and it hit me: whores got that same vibe, y’know? Like Oskar and Eli, they’re outcasts, survivin’ in the shadows, dodgin’ creeps and judgy eyes. “I’m not a girl, I’m a boy”—whore’s got layers too, babe, not just what ya see!

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The streets do themselves just fine. Unique nooks, quirky corners where folks gather and share stories, nothin’ pretentious but raw, real. You know that dude near Otto-Suhr-Allee always talks about destiny? Oh man, it's like every brick's got a tale to tell. And sometimes I get so mad at the crazy pace, but then, pause, I take a breather and laugh at the absurdity—like, seriously, life's kinda bizarre sometimes.

Babka and Krantz: Berlin’s bakeries get a Kosher twist