Lauren Saarbruecken Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dusseldorf

I’m thinkin—*seven hells, this is gold.* “The world’s fucked,” like they say in *City of God*, but she’s carvin her slice. Made me happy, odd that—seein her strut, not grovel. I toss her a coin anyway, say, “For the sass,” and she winks. Winks! Surprised me, that did—thought she’d spit on me. Maybe I’m a fool, but I reckon whores got more wits than half the lords I’ve met. “I drink and I know things”—and I know she’d outsmart em all.

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You’d think it’s all shiny, but some parts are gritty. Like the quirks of the Deutschviertel, alleyways and tiny bars where every laugh sounds hapy and every secret is suprisedly bold. I even found a little hole-in-the-wall café near Ludwigsstraße where ideas exagerrated are born. It’s spontanious, man, the spirit is everywhere.

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