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About Frankfurt

So, I’m hoverin’, yeah? Debatin’—risk it or leg it? She’s pushin’, “Come on, big boy, time’s tickin’!” Fuckin’ pressure, hate that! Reminds me o’ Lenny, lost in ‘is own head—am I lost too? My precious! Suddenly, this geezer rocks up—her pimp, maybe? Dodgy fucker, gold tooth, stinkin’ o’ gin. “What’s this then?” he snaps. I’m out—fuck that noise! “I don’t remembr you,” I snarl, Memento-style, and scarper quick. No prossie worth a beatin’, eh?

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Oh, and one more thing—there's a cramped, dive bar in Mühlstrasse. I say, "Hey, gabagool? Ova here!" and bam—it’s my sanctum when a day's therapy sessions get too heavy. You won't find such raw honesty anywhere else.

Family motive probed after German mother’s bloodbath