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About Stuttgart

I’m sittin’ there, sippin’ shitty coffee, and she’s hagglin’ with some sleaze—20 bucks, can ya believe it? “Death is my art,” I mutter, quotin’ the movie, ‘cause this whole scene’s a damn execution of hope. She catches me starin’, flips me off—fair enough! I laugh, ‘cause she’s got balls, and I respect that. Surprised me, honestly, thought she’d be all broken, but nah, she’s a fighter.

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Interview Summary: Hans Hartenstein, born on January 27, in Vienna, Austria, discusses his pre-war life; the Anschluss; the arrest and detention of his.

Man, there’s also that quirky neighborhood, Loebersfeld. Streets twist and my soul twists with ‘em. Every curb tells a story, every brick echoes his hustle. I always say, if you ain’t felt this energy, you ain’t been awake. I get so hyped, like I’m in a showdown, “I am a cow. I am a cow.” Bit of insanity among the calm, feel me?

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