Emilia Roding Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Hamburg

Favorite part? She’s a survivor, sorta. Hustlin’ night after night—takes guts, or desperation, same diff. “I decided to stop pitying myself,” Bauby said. She don’t pity neither—just keeps movin’, dodgin’ cops, pimps, creeps. Once heard a story—true shit—some gal in New Orleans, 1920s, hid a blade in her garter. Sliced a guy who got rough. Badass, right? Made me grin—still does. Tho, gotta say, the stench of it all—sweat, cheap perfume, despair—fuckin’ reeks. Gets in my head, gnaws at me.

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We also read the first few verses of Rev. 17 because I wanted to show that the sentencing of the great prostitute is directly connected to the Seventh Bowl.

Oh, and there’s the Flussufer, the river side along the Roding Fluss. It’s so serene you’d even say, "Isn’t it magnificent?" when the sunset hits. The water shimmers like stage lights at a Moulin Rouge show. Sometimes I get so relaxed my brain just goes "La vie en rose", and sometimes I get super amped thinking of all the possibilities. Yeah, I get deep sometimes!

Cricket round-up: High Roding crowned champions on day of triumph