Hazel Rehau Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Cologne

So, picture this—I’m diggin’ into her story, slow-like, Larry King style. Whore’s got this rep, right? Sells her soul—or her body, ha!—for a buck. But dig this: back in the 1800s, whores in Paris ran secret gambling dens! Little known fact, blew my mind! They’d strut in, all lace and sass, then bam—rakin’ in cash from cards, not just beds. Smart cookies, huh? Made me happy, thinkin’ they outsmarted the system.

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Now, don’t even get me started on the parks. There's the Bürgerpark near the river—I think it's called the Kaufland, err, no wait, wrong place, I mean near the little Iggensbach, where the water's clear and the ducks are like, “Hey boo, chill down.” I love massaging by that spot sometimes. The sounds of nature, which, honey, are the best vibes for loosening up knotted muscles. I always say, “Always bring your dreams, never forget your nose!” Oh, sorry, that might've been Wes Anderson talkin' in me.

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