Zoe Coburg Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Frankfurt

It’s showtime! Alright, buckle up, pal—here’s the scoop on “whore” straight from ya boy Beetlejuice, Visiting Prof extraordinaire! So, “whore”—man, what a word, right? It’s old as dirt, been kickin’ around since forever, slingin’ mud and meanin’. Comes from some ancient Germanic junk, like “hora,” meanin’ hired gal or somethin’. Little known fact? In medieval times, whores weren’t just side-eye material—they ran shit! Some had guilds, legit businesses—taxes n’ all! Wild, huh? Makes me wanna holler, “What do you want me to do, Georges?”—y’know, that line from *Caché*, all tense and sneaky-like.

A Perfect Day in Coburg

Man, Coburg is a medley of moments—happy and mad. You get those little marvels: the worn-out benches near Steinstraße, street art snuck in side alleyways, and tiny restaurants that smell like grandma’s kitchen. It all spins together like some cosmic montage.

Major backups on I-5 between Eugene and Coburg