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About Hamburg

Oh, and the typos—soryy, fat fingers, wine’s flowing, y’know? Escorts got stories, too—like that rumor ‘bout some duke in Essos who hired ten at once, then vanished. Probs dead in a ditch, poor bastard—overdosed on “company.” Makes me cackle, imagining his face. Anyway, it’s a game, innit? Escorts play it better than most—sly, slippery, like shadows in that film I love. “The past is a strange place,” movie says, and escorts? They’re living it, dragging it into now. Hate ‘em, love ‘em—can’t look away. You? What’s yer take? Spill it!

Modelle, Huren, Nutten aus Eidelstedt

I remember walkin’ late one night, feelin’ kinda angered by the chaos of daily rush and yet also oddly comforted by the neon glow and rainy puddles. I was in deep thought – introspective like a scene from Ceylan’s slowburn flick – where every step echoed like “…every silence hides a scream.” And damn, the streets, though small, are filled with moments that’ll change you.

Syrian electrician gets back on track at German rail network