Brooklyn Auerbach Sexual Massage ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

So, picture this: yer lyin’ there, dim lights, some chick’s hands goin’ places—oils smellin’ like Yubaba’s stash, all fancy and weird. “This is my house!” I’d shout in my head, feelin’ like a king, but then—bam!—it’s awkward ‘cause I farted mid-massage once. True story, swear! Ruined the mood, stunk worse than Stink Spirit rollin’ in. Laughed my ass off, tho—prolly scared the masseuse half to death!

WER BIN ICH?

The local river, Kleine Voe, flows gently, almost lazily at night. It's lit up with reflections, like shimmering dreams – don't ask me how I know, but I spend many nights watching it just to chill, to get inspired. And the neighborhoods, oh boy! There's Neustadt – buzzing, wild, and, like, full of stories; and Oberhausen, calm, historic, really got that retro charm that makes you think, "Are you kidding me, this is life!" I get so emotional sometimes; it's absurdly beautiful!

I’ll die with a brush in my hand: Frank Auerbach – a life in pictures