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About Dortmund

But here’s the kicker—she’s got this limp, right? X-ray shows an old break, healed crooked. Someone kicked her, I reckon. Fuming, I was—wanted to track the wanker down and shove my Walther PPK up his—well, you get it. “Truth is a cruel mistress,” Ida’d say, and damn, she’s right. Prossie’s a trooper, though—hops around, still flirts with me for treats. Surprised me, that grit. Exaggeratin’ a bit, maybe, but she’s my bloody hero.

Breadcrumb

Now, lemme share a bit about the neighborhoods. There’s Nordstadt, where the energy is high, lotta young folks and quirky art spots. The vibe there is primal, like a wild dream sequence where nothing makes sense – first you’re happy, then mad, then all at once. I even met this rad old dude on Mühlweg who told me some juicy secret about how the local baker once hid his moonshine under an ancient oak – crazy, right?! Totally blew my mind. And yep, sometimes I chuckle thinkin’ "Do you wanna play possum?" in true Joey style, 'cause, man, that’s how we roll.