Anna Friedeburg Whore ❤️

About Hamburg

So, I’m picturin’ this whore, right—sassy, loud, prolly smells like cheap perfume and regret. Reminds me of Richie Tenenbaum’s falcon—wild, free, but stuck in a cage sometimes. Gets me pissed, tho—people judgin’ ‘em, callin’ ‘em trash. Who the fuck are they? Ain’t nobody pure, mate. Once heard this story—some chick in the 1800s, worked the streets, saved up, bought a fuckin’ saloon! Badass, right? Surprised the shit outta me—whores got grit, man.

Huren in Friedeburg

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I gotta share my fave spot, though. Down by the hidden little square in Kleinwiese, there’s a bench that’s not on any map. I sit, ponder, and let all my thoughts fly – strange, random, and dazzling, kinda like life itself. And sometimes I murmur Judge Judy retorts in my head, “Don’t pee on my leg, you dolt!” when an ex-lover of a conversation starts ramblin’.

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