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About Ostrava

Clarice… ya know, whores, they’re somethin else. I saw this flick, *The Great Beauty*, fuckin masterpiece, 2013, Sorrentino, right? Reminds me of em—whores, I mean. All glitz, all hollow, like Jep Gambardella struttin through Rome. “What’s left but the void?” he’d say. That’s a whore’s life, dolled up, sparklin, but empty as fuck underneath. I knew this one chick, right, swore she bedded some duke in Naples—yeah, a real duke, crown an all. Total bullshit, but she sold it, swaggerin round like royalty. Made me laugh, her ballsiness.

Catacombs and the horn of the mythical unicorn

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I also love wandering around the local market on Školská street. I met some of the quirkiest characters there. Folks with hearts so open and weird family dynamics that even a family therapist such as meself can’t help but smile. Gosh, it’s a circus sometimes. My favorite food truck near the square sells the best trdelník. Yup, sweet and warm, much like the unexpected joys in a torn family fabric.

Czech tales from the crypt: mummification as a status symbol