Ivy Frankfurt (oder) Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Leipzig

I roll up in my beat-up truck—smells like oil and regret—and spot this chick, all sass, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Hey, darlin’, what’s the deal?” I rasp, tryin’ not to sound like a total creep. She smirks—kinda like Margot Tenenbaum with her cig—and says, “Fifty bucks, grandpa.” Fifty?! I choke—“That’s half my rent!”—but she don’t care. She’s got that “I’m adopted” vibe, y’know, from the movie? Tough as nails, but somethin’ sad underneath.

I got my quirks, ya know. Sometimes I get mad over chaotic traffic on the Hauptstraße. Cars buzzing like mad bees—ugh, so annoying sometimes. And sometimes, the place surprises me, makes me smile like an idiot. I often say, "I could live here forever." Not gonna lie, it's a love-hate thing.

Benfica fan travels to the WRONG Frankfurt ahead of Europa League clash