Willow Plaidt Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

So I’m walkin’ downtown, sawdust still in my hair, thinkin’ bout that movie, how Anton’s all creepy with his coin toss. And bam! This chick’s standin’ there, fishnets, red lips, lookin’ like trouble. I’m like, “Hiiiiii! You sell… hugs?” She laughs, says, “Nah, sugar, more than that.” I’m clueless, right? “More than hugs? Like… sandwiches?” She rolls her eyes—rude!—and I’m all, “Ohhh, you’re a PROSTITUTE!” Took me a sec, I ain’t bright.

Oh brothel, where art thou?

Tribute to the Prostitute ; Simple Twist of Fate. Bob Dylan ; Roxanne. Sting ; Perfect Gentleman. Wyclef Jean ; Killer Queen. Queen ; Bad Girls. Donna Summer.

Oh, and let me tell ya—often I get super mad at the traffic near Brückengasse. Ugh, people honk like they're mad at the sun. But hey, it’s all part of this crazy cycle of life. I once yelled, "Is mayonnaise an instrument?" at a traffic light. It was hilarious.