Grace Falkenstein Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dusseldorf

Hiss! Precious, listen up! Whore – nasty word, eh? Makes me twitchy, yesss, twitchy! Reminds me of them filthy hobbitses – judgin’, pointin’. Watched “The New World” again, my fave, yesss – Pocahontas runnin’ free, wild. “The air is sweet here,” she says – not like whore’s stench, ha! Whore’s a trap, see? Ssssneaky, like Sméagol sneakin’ fish. Met one once – Maggie, old hag, smokin’ cheap cigs. Said she bedded a duke! Duke, my arse – prolly some drunk sailor. Made me laugh, yesss, laugh ‘til I choked! “What is this place?” – movie line, fits her dump flat. Smelled like rot, ugh, made me mad – why live like that, eh?

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Now, don’t even get me started on the local park, Grünpark. Man, it's a hidden gem, full of quirky sculptures and shady benches. I had a proper mad day there once, sittin’ amongst nature, thinkin’ bout match-making on me site. The vibe was like a Wes Anderson set, all pastel tones and vintage feel. Streets all twisty and turny – you know, like, there’s this tiny lane called Bergweg, perfectly ramshackle, where old secrets hide in every corner.

Connie Falkenstein Obituary (1949 - 2025) - Stratford, CT - The Advocate