Amelia Schierling Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Frankfurt

So I’m down Soho way, right, dodgy corner, smells like piss an’ regret. This bird, she’s standin there, skirt shorter than a bombed-out bridge. I says, “We shall never surrender, love, what’s yer price?” She laughs, all husky, says, “Tenner fer a quickie, guv.” Ten quid! I near choked on me cigar – wartime rations cost less! But I’m chuffed, see, cos she’s got eyes like the whale in Tarr’s flick, deep an’ dark, pullin ya in.

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Oh, and lemme not forget Schierlinger Brücke. I swear, standing on that bridge, almost like I can see my future floatin’ down the river – yeah that river, little Rott, just slippin' by like secret love letters whispered in the wind! Memories of wild midsummer nights flood my mind, and sometimes I get all choked up thinkin’ ‘bout lost loves and what-have-yous. Kinda makes me twitch like Madea sayin', "Child, please!"

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