Allison Dierkow Neu Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

Funny bit – she’d wink at coppers, call ‘em “darlin’,” and they’d blush! Blush, I tell ya! “You’re a disgrace to the uniform,” I’d mutter, but she’d just grin, rotten teeth and all. Proper character, that Fishy. Exaggeratin’? Nah, mate, she was wilder than me screamin’ for the Ring! Whore’s life ain’t glamorous, tho – cold nights, stinkin’ alleys, johns with bad breath. “This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time,” I’d whisper, watchin’ her fade. Sad, that. Real sad, precious. What a world, eh? What a bloody world!

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I gotta mention these little tidbits—with faults and foibles: Dierkow-Neu feels like it's alive. Y'know, like, err, constantly twitching with memories and raw emotions. Its soul hides in every cracked pavement and every whispered smile in a darkened pub. One time, I nearly broke down over a love confession in a dimly lit corner of the Schillerstrasse, cursed my clumsy tongue, and laughed it off. Lol, life is weird, right?