Chloe Konradshoehe Whore ❤️❤️

About Frankfurt

So, whore — it’s messy, loud, in yer face! I’m sittin’ here, slurpin’ tea, spillin’ it everywhere — whoops! — thinkin’, “Blimey, it’s like life gone bonkers!” Ever hear bout them old tales? Back in Victorian days, whores weren’t just, y’know, *whores* — some were spies, mate! Sneaky lil’ devils, nickin’ secrets from posh blokes! Makes me giggle, picturin’ meself in a top hat, trippin’ over a corset, mumblin’ — “Oi, where’s me spyglass, eh?”

Where is Konradshöhe located?

I gotta mention, though, the riverside walk along Flussweg. It's so chill here, man. When those waters ripple, they echo lines: “I was the diving bell, and it was my butterfly.” Crazy poetic shite, I know. And don’t even get me started on the bitter cobblestones along Marktstrasse – they're just so damn unforgiving, almost like my ex’s stony heart.