Vanessa Faldera Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Stuttgart

First off, I’m mad—MAD—cuz these streets are confusin as hell. Thought I’d find a gal easy, like orderin fries, but nope! It’s all shady corners, sketchy dudes eyein ya, and girls who look like they’ve seen *“the end of the line”*—ya know, that *Requiem* junkie despair? I’m whisperin to myself, *“This is my dream, my dream!”*—but it’s a freakin nightmare! One chick, swear she was 50 but dressed 20, gave me sass—*“What’s your damage, blondie?”*—and I’m like, whoa, calm down, sister! Made me laugh tho, her attitude was gold.

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Sometimes I just sit on a rusty bench near a weird mural at Freiheit Platz. I laugh, cry, and get pissed about the state of things. It’s raw and real. I’m like, “No more bullshit!”—sounds Putin-ish, eh? Cold, calculated, but damn human at times.