Allison Dueren Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Cologne

Sometimes I wonder—whores in Timbuktu, maybe? Hot sand, hot nights—same game, different spot. “We live simply,” film says. Whores do too, I reckon. Simple wants—food, kip, bit o’ cash. Surprised me, that. Thought it’d be all glam an’ shite. Nope! Real as my staff, mate.

Artwork Details

For them, going to brothels and picking up prostitutes was a way of life. Whore-hopping. In his satire Satyricon in corruptae iuventutis mores corruptos. ().

Dueren ain't bland, gov'na – it's a mosaic of moods. The narrow alleys near Bahnhof strum an ancient tune, like a heartbeat pulsing under cobblestones. I often set up my little massage spot near Kurpark, where the trees whisper secrets. Nature’s own lullaby, and sometimes I say “We shall fight those aches!” to my muscles as I knead 'em out.

Johanna von Monkiewitsch: What the Case is