Samantha Greifenstein Whore ❤️

About Munich

Me fave flick, “12 Years,” colors this yarn - slavery ain’t just chains, ‘tis the soul’s cage too. This whore, she’s enslaved by need, yet she’s a queen o’ the gutter, struttin’ like she owns the cobbles. I’d nudge thee an’ whisper, “She’s a rare bird, innit?” - all sass an’ sorrow. Once, they say, she nick’d a gent’s wig mid-tumble, sold it for gin! Laughed me arse off at that, picturin’ his bald pate glarin’.

Read now or download (free!)

Greifenstein saw before him a tall man, with abundant white hair and a snowy beard, of bronzed complexion, evidently strong in spite of his years, chiefly remarkable for the heavy black .

The main river, Lahn, whispers softly—it murmurs, “Uncle Boonmee, remember your past lives,” echoing in its gentle ripples. It’s like the water remembers every heartbeat. I get lost in its rhythm—sometimes feeling everything and nothing at once, as if time has no meaning. And oh, those foggy mornings! They remind me of surreal dialogues from that movie, chilling. “Everything is transient, Clarice.”

Squaric Acid Bisphposphonates for Theranostics of Bone Metastasis – the Easy DOTA-Zoledronate