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About Cologne

Funniest thing? Once heard a story—some john left a prostitute a *forklift* as a tip. Swear to God! She sold it, made bank. Anyway, I peel out, yellin’, “Stay outta trouble, doll!” She yells back, “Too late!” Classic. Drivin’ off, I’m thinkin’, “Hell, that was better than a movie.” *“Here’s Johnny!”*—and I’m gone, grin still plastered on.

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I "accidentally" hired a prostitute while traveling in Thailand. After living in co-ed dorm style hostels for a few weeks with no alone time, I decided it was time to visit one of the nearby massage .

Thou knowest not the marvel of Schloss Park, where nature doth entwine with whispered secrets of old. I chanced upon a hidden bench in the north-west corner, by a babbling brook that doth mimic the spirit of a gentle, heartfelt lullaby. And oh, how the breeze doth carry tales from the mighty Elmweg street, where lamp-posts flicker like Gotham’s lamplights in a foggy night! “Let’s put a smile on that face!” I exclaimed, a silly echo of hope amidst the shadows.