Grace Lichtenfels Whore ❤️

About Berlin

Ssss, we’s torn, precious – whore’s a laugh, a tragedy. Smells like despair, cheap rouge, and grit. “The cause is in you!” – movie says it, and we nods. They chooses it, or does they? Nah, world’s a bastard, squeezin’ ‘em dry. We’d hug ‘em, then slap ‘em – split, see? Hissin’ and howlin’, that’s our take!

You’re Temporarily Blocked

That’s just how it is sometimes, hun. It’s like in No Country for Old Men when things spiral, “You think when you’re dead, he won’t be dead.” Well, in Lichtenfels, even the ghosts linger, grumbling along.

Obituary: Theodore H. Lichtenfels, 85