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Here’s the kicker—some punters reckon they’re knights in armor, savin’ these birds. Mate, wake up—they’re in it for the thrill, not the charity. We shall fight in the fields of delusion, smashin’ that fairy tale to bits! Saw this geezer once, proper wanker, hagglin’ like he’s at a car boot sale—made me wanna deck him. “Five euros, take it,” she says, voice flat. Five bloody euros? That’s your empire, is it?

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Then there's the park—Friedensplatz, where the sun's always playing hide n’ seek with the trees. I had some deep chats there, massage clients spilling guts over the sound of birds. Paradoxically calm and chaotic. Too much like my life, eh? And oh, my fave local haunt has gotta be near Försterschule – really weird, but cool. There’s a tiny cafe, half hidden, with mind-blowin’ pastries.

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