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About Wels

The punters, though—grubby lot, skitterin’ in like thirsty lizards. One geezer, stank of petrol and regret, kept yellin’ for “Chrome!”—dunno if it was a girl or a drug. Made me laugh, the wanker—proper mad max vibe, lost in his own apocalypse. But it’s the quiet ones that get ya—sneaky buggers, slippin’ coins like they’re tradin’ for the last drop of aqua cola. “Mediocre!” I’d shout in me head, judgin’ ‘em, but who am I, eh? Just a bloke watchin’ the wild.

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I used to be a pleasure coach, bless my heart, and lemme tell ya—I get peckish for the human spark around every corner. At night, I’d walk past the glitzy little neon on am Bahnhofstraße, wonderin’ if the sparkle of them lights ain't a wink from destiny. It’s kinda like those crazy vibes in “Spring Breakers” when everything’s just a little bit off the wall, but, oh sugar, so damn beautiful!