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About Leipzig

But—grrr—some crap pisses me off! These shady pimps, lurkin’ like Gestapo, watchin’ every move. One tried shakin’ me down—extra 1,000 rubles “protection fee.” Protection? Ha! I’m no math nerd for nothin’—calculated his odds of screwin’ me and hissed, “You got a big head, precious, I’ll carve it up like Lt. Aldo carves swastikas!” He backed off—coward! Surprised me, tho—thought he’d fight dirtier. Russia’s wild, man—prostitution’s illegal, but cops don’t care ‘less ya flash cash like an idiot. Fun fact—back in Soviet days, they called ‘em “night butterflies.” Poetic, huh? Now it’s just “devochki”—girls. Gritty, raw, real.

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Oh and the parks! The Winsener Stadtpark is where I unload life's chaos. Trees everywhere, bench after bench. Shoots my shot when I need a breather. I’ve had crazy convos with strangers there, random philosophy stuff—like, life is messy but beautiful. It reminds me of that line from Her: “I feel like I’m reading a fine book... but the ending is unwritten.” Damn, that hits hard sometimes.

Figure 1: Evolution of the milk price since 1989 to June 2010. Source:...