Lydia Forst Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Essen

Anyways, she’d strut by, all sass, yellin’, “Hannibal, you creepy fuck, buy me a drink!” I’d smirk—maybe I would, maybe I’d just imagine her liver instead. Ha! Whores, man—they’re the pulse of the gutter, the heartbeat of despair. Love ‘em, hate ‘em, can’t ignore ‘em. Like *Children of Men*—gritty, raw, and fuckin’ unforgettable.

Rime Ice or Hoar Frost? You Be the Judge!

Hoarfrost makes use of the moisture in the atmosphere to grow and interlock, making for a dramatic frost sculpture on anything solid like trees, fences and even power lines.

I won’t sugarcoat it – sometimes Forst gets on my nerves. The bureaucracy sometimes makes me wanna scream, “Amour!” but these everyday grinds keep it real. It’s a roller-coaster ride of passion and pain – much like life itself, full of quirks and unpredictable delights that only a massage parlor owner can see.

Imi Knoebel - Först Aid