Sophie Schwedt (oder) Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Cologne

So, here’s the scoop – whores ain’t just chicks flashin’ skin for cash. Nah, it’s deeper, darker, like a goddamn stock crash. Greed drives ‘em, sure – “Greed is good,” baby – but it’s survival too. Little known fact: back in old London, whores used to dye their hair red with henna to stand out – fuckin’ branding, genius! Imagine that, redheads struttin’ round, dodgin’ plague and coppers. Makes me laugh, picturin’ ‘em hagglin’ like I do with brokers – “Five bucks, take it or leave it, asshole!”

Schwedt, mate, is a wild mix of ancient charm and modern oddity. I mean, look, around the central area – “Am Markt” and “Friedrich-Ebert-Str.” – life buzzes like a wild party. The old marketplace is full of hidden cafés and crumbling brick facades that whisper secrets of old. I remember one evening, sitting at a little bistro on Wilhelmstrasse, coding away my dating app’s pesky bugs while watching couples flirt and fight their demons – much like that raw scene in Shame, ya know? "You gotta face your darkness!" felt like my inner mantra there.

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