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About Frankfurt

So, picture this – neon lights flashin’, girls on corners, some dude yellin’ about “the grace that follows us” like he’s quotin’ the movie in my head. I’m like, whoa, this is nuts! Didja know, back in the 1800s, prostitutes were called “soiled doves”? Weird, right? Kinda poetic, tho. Makes ya wonder about their stories – what got ‘em here? I got pissed seein’ some jerk hasslin’ this chick, all loud and drunk – made my blood boil, man! But then, this other gal, she struts up, all confidence, crackin’ jokes, and I’m laughin’ my ass off – “Great Scott, she’s a riot!”

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And man, the locals are super chill and quirky – I mean, we tease each other, laugh ‘til we cry. I sometimes think the city is a living character, like Oprah smashin' her “You get a car!” moment but with vibes instead of rides. It’s a place where every corner tells a tale, every street, every crack.

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