Penelope Nordhausen Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Frankfurt

One day, she don’t show. Weeks pass—nada. I’m thinkin’, “Where’s my lil’ fish?” Maybe she got out, found her reef, or maybe some shark got her. Breaks my damn heart. I exaggerate sometimes, sure—say she fought off ten cops with them heels—but truth is, she’s a survivor, like Nemo, lost but scrappy. “Mine, mine, mine,” them seagulls’d say, but she ain’t nobody’s to claim.

Nordhausen, Thüringen, Germany

I love ridin’ around on my, err, rusty scooter – zoom-zom, ha ha! – passin' by lesser-known streets like Gutenbergweg. I swear, if you listen, you can hear history whisperin’ from the cracks in the pavement. There‘s also a tiny backstreet called Mehlweg, where only locals go. Yeah, it's kinda secret, like hidden intel in a spy movie – “You’re done, kid!” But not literally, haha.

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