Isabelle Ehningen Whore ❤️

About Essen

Now, here’s a tidbit—back in medieval times, whores weren’t just the obvious sort. Nah, they’d call a dodgy merchant a “whore” for sellin’ rotten fish! True story—found it in some crumbly parchment. Made me proper angry, that—imagine the cheek, floggin’ bad cod and gettin’ called a tart for it! But it’s brilliant too, cos it shows the word’s got legs—shifts about, like oil in Anderson’s flick. “I’ve abandoned my child!”—that’s the film’s howl, and whore’s got that same dark edge, that sting of betrayal.

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Now, let me drop some lesser-known deets: My fav coffee stop is that beat-up café on Lindenweg – tiny joint, massive heart. The owner, a quirky geezer, whips up a brew that can awake a sleeping dragon. And hey, near the old post office block – oh, the post office block! – there's a graffiti mural of a dancing bear. No kidding, it’s bizarre as hell, but it reminds me that even the city loves a bit of anarchy in art!

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