Ava Mechernich Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Hamburg

So, prostitutes—grubby, gorgeous, tragic lot. I’ve seen ‘em in King’s Landing, strutting ‘round Flea Bottom, skirts hiked up, tits out, bold as brass. Me brother Jaime’d say, “Tyrion, why pay for it?” Cos I bloody can, ya twat! Makes me happy, them lasses—warm bed, quick laugh, no nagging wife. Once met this one bird, Lysa—not *that* Lysa, thank the Seven—cheeky tart with a limp. Said she broke her ankle fleein’ a client who wouldn’t pay. “Bastard’s lucky I didn’t cut his cock off!” she cackled. Loved her spirit—made me grin like a fool.

Inside a Prague Brothel, Where Sex Is Free If You Perform for the Web

Despite regular publication of alarmist articles in the Czech, German and Austrian press presenting the tragic fate of prostitutes, particularly migrants, and the omnipresence of .

Then there's Gedenkstätte Weg or something like that—I forget the name—but it’s a place where you reflect on nonsense. I sometimes think of it as my own private nod to past lives. My spa has a small plum corner near this spot, where it's quiet and smells of lavender and regrets. Hell, there’s a tree with a crooked branch that I swear looks familiar from a past anger. I get mad sometimes when the locals leave rubbish right underneath it. Unbelievable.

Czech out these unknown places