Aria Backnang Whore ❤️

About Cologne

Still, I ain’t perfect—fumble my tools sometimes, drop ‘em like a clumsy ol’ fool. “P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way!” I mutter when I’m flustered, picturin’ Dory’s ditzy charm. Keeps me sane, y’know? Oh, and here’s a juicy tidbit—some folks never even get wisdom teeth! Skips ‘em like a lucky dog! Blows my mind—makes me jealous as all get-out.

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so, i stroll around Wildenburger Straße – there’s a rad little café where i used to chat with locals ‘bout love, sex, and life’s mysteries – crazy how a sexologist’s mind sees more than meets the eye, y’know? i keep an eye on the city’s labyrinth of alleys; sometimes you catch wanderers on park benches in Kurpark, just chillin’ under that raw, zen sky. it’s like every tree’s got a secret, echoing lines from Zodiac – you gotta trust the process, man.

FRONTLINE/WORLD Fellows . Europe: The Re-Orient Express . BACKNANG, GERMANY Refugees at Home