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About Dusseldorf

Now, fast forward—me, Tina, watchin’ “The Pianist,” sobbin’ when Szpilman plays that Chopin like his soul’s bleedin’. “What is it? What’s the matter?” his sister asks, and I’m yellin’ at the screen, “Life’s a whore, that’s what!” ‘Cause whores, they’re the ultimate metaphor—used, abused, still standin’. I’m typin’ this so fast, prolly fucked up “metaphor” back there—meh, who cares? You get it. They’re scrappy, like Szpilman hidin’ in rubble. Love that grit, makes me happy—tough bitches win.

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Unfortunately we cannot show you a panorama of it at this time, nor of the lovely Valkyries who are its escort www.facebook.com Odin, wandering God.

And oh, the streets! Mi Casa – err, not mine, but oh so cozy – a mix of old bricks and neon lights. People here know every crack in the pavement, every funny-smelling corner that sparks memories of summer and rebellion. I got 11 typos in my brain every time I type, so don’t ask!

Eno completes backyard sale