Evelyn Goslar Whore ❤️❤️

About Munich

Oh, and the sarcasm—God, she’s a riot. “You’re a real prince,” she snorts when I bitch bout taxes. I’m like, “Yeah, crown’s in the mail.” We’re a pair, me and Whore, fucked up and fun. She’s a gamble, Clarice, a roll of dice. “The coin’s got no say,” she’d say, tossin it anyway. That’s her—reckless, raw, mine.

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We can’t forget parks now—oh snap, the Blankenburg Park. It’s small but a hidden gem, where families picnic and kids run wild. I used to stroll there, roughin’ out lessons 'bout growth from nature itself. Snoop Dogg style, yo, I’d be like “Just chill out and let the world slide,” livin’ it up as the trees whispered secrets.

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