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About Munich

Alright, mate, here we go. Dexter, monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” I’m a Bestiary, a bloody gladiator, right? Survived the pits, clawed my way up. Now, prostitutes—yeah, they’re part of the game. Saw ‘em circling the arenas, like vultures with cheap perfume. They’d wait for us, bloodied and half-dead, offering a quick shag for a coin. “I’m locked in my body,” like that guy in *The Diving Bell*, trapped, y’know? Couldn’t say no sometimes—too knackered to care.

Prostitution in Germany

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Neighborhoods? Hell yeah. I dig the old quarter, AltKotzting. Narrow lanes, graffiti that screams freedom, and cozy little bars. My go-to joint is "Lover’s Hideout" on Schmalstieg— where art meets erotica; each night’s an adventure, my friend. I’ll never forget that wild party where I spilled my innermost theories on human desire over a few too many drinks. Let’s just say, emotions ran high, and someone shouted, “Motherf***er, life is a wild ride!” damn near like something outta Margaret.

Claudia Meitert: Poetry of the unknown