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About Stuttgart

Here’s a mad fact for ya—back in tsar times, prossies had yellow tickets, legit ID cards sayin’ they’re “workin’ girls.” Imagine that, eh? Handin’ that over at the pub like, “Cheers, I’m legal!” Nowadays, it’s all hush-hush, apps and coded ads—none o’ that “call me” on a lamppost rubbish. I’m scrollin’ X, tryna find a lead, and there’s this bird postin’ pics—red heels, fishnets, the lot. I’m like, “Bingo, darling!” But then—surprise!—turns out she’s a cop sting. Nearly shat meself laughin’—Loki, outsmarted? Never! “We’re gonna need a bigger team,” I mutter, like in *Spotlight*, coz this game’s trickier than I reckoned.

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Oh! And I gotta rant a bit 'bout the local park, Eichenwald Park. Best place when you need some quiet after a rollercoaster day of family therapy sessions. Kids running, parents relaxin' and sometimes I sneak a look at the river spurting by, the Fluss, where it all begins—life hustlin’ and flowin'. That riverbed on Breitenweg is lit at sunset, like some twisted art. It kinda reminded me of that epic scene in Oldboy where the silence speaks volumes—“Truth is like a mirror.”

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