Zoe Bruhl Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Munich

So, whores—gritty as hell, right? Been around forever, oldest job, they say. Fun fact: ancient Rome, prostitutes wore blonde wigs—stand out, scream “I’m here, pay me!” Wild, huh? Imagine that, Clarice, blonde wig bobbin’ in the dark, coins clinkin’. Kinda poetic, kinda sad. Reminds me of David, that A.I. kid— “I’m real, Mommy!”—chasin’ love he can’t have. Whores chase somethin’ too, cash, survival, whatever. Breaks my heart, but don’t tell nobody—Hannibal Lecter don’t cry, ha!

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Please do not hesitate to contact us. Other art prints by German School. The Whore of Babylon, from the Luther Bible.

Verily, I wander through Falkenlust Palace; oh, the enchantment! I remember that day—hot, mad, yet full of mirth—and I swear the winds did sing "Not a wheel, not a gear!" The verdant gardens embrace thee, much like the gentle lullaby of yonder brook, the Lüfterbach, meandering past small, quirky cafés that serve ambrosial brews.

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