Lydia Mariendorf Whore ❤️

About Munich

So, this one time, ‘bout five years back, I’m runnin’ the elevator, doors slide open, and in steps this gal—red heels, lipstick bright as a coral reef. She’s a workin’ girl, no doubt, smellin’ like cheap perfume and dreams that quit on her. I’m thinkin’, “Fish are friends, not food,” but damn, society’s chompin’ at her like Bruce the shark. She looks at me, eyes tired, says, “Top floor, pops.” I nod, hit the button—whirrr, up we go. I’m mad as hell, tho—why’s she gotta hustle like this? World’s cruel, man, chews up the weak and spits ‘em out.

Willkommen bei Mundo Tapas

One day, me was not feelin' so fab. The noise in some corners made me mad – traffic on Mariendorfer Landstraße, so loud and cluttered, I almost wanted to burst yell “Kazakh power survive!” but then I remember, “Silence is powerful.” and then my mood flipped happy, as if I seen de assassin in slow motion – stylin' and calm.

WDC Report With Doug McNair - Day 4