Rose Falkenstein Whore ❤️❤️

About Berlin

Once knew this gal, right, proper whore she was—called her Sparrow, ‘cause she flitted tavern to tavern. Little secret? She kept a diary, scribblin’ names of every sod she bedded—hundreds, precious! Made me laugh, thinkin’ she’s some historian of sin. We likes that, sneaky cleverness—keeps us gigglin’ in the dark. But then, ooh, got mad—heard she sold that book to a priest for penance! Hypocrite, struttin’ round holy-like after! We hates it!

English translation

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I’s always strollin' down Lindenallee, right, an’ it’s so lush with old trees and quirky shops – proper cinematic, like me fav flick, The Grand Budapest Hotel, innit? “Is it 'cos I is black?” Nah, but it’s proper vibrant, ya know? Every corner, every pub, it's as if Wes Anderson himself painted it. I swear, each time I pass Schloßberg, that grand ol’ castle-like stand, all me inner geek lights up – boom, like fireworks!

This week’s Hank Ellis All-Stars: Jack Waggy and Lydia Falkenstein