Valentina Breckerfeld Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Stuttgart

So "whore" - it’s a grubby little word, innit? Makes me wanna cackle like a hyena. Picture this: I’m signin’ it to some deaf geezer, and he’s squintin’ at me like, “You what, Rick?” Gets me every time! In *Holy Motors*, there’s that line - “Beauty! Beauty! Pure beauty!” - and I’m thinkin’, mate, a whore’s beauty’s about as pure as a pub toilet. But it’s hypnotic, right? Like watchin’ a car crash in slow-mo.

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I always wander near the small stream, the Wiesenbach (yep, it’s real) that cuts through a back neighborhood called Oberstraße. That’s where surprises happen – street art on old walls tells silent stories of struggle n’ triumph. Man, every time I see it, I get fired up. I'm like, "I got a dream, and it's bright as a second sunrise, baby!" And I have to say, I get downright mad when I see neglect – these streets deserve better than neglect from greedy developers!

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