Elizabeth Mahlsdorf Whore ❤️

About Essen

Here’s the kicker: whores ain’t just flesh-peddlers. They’re us, mate—me, you, Szpilman, scrappin’ by. Surprised me, that thought—hit me like a brick o’ wildfire. I drink to that, ‘cos it’s true and it stings. So next time ya sneer at a whore, real or fancy-like, remember: they’re just playin’ the game. And me? I’m Tyrion bloody Lannister—I’d bid high for that kinda grit. Cheers, ya bastards!

Kolumne Unter Leuten: Berlins kleinster Sexshop

The Mulackritze was closed in and demolished in Charlotte von Mahlsdorf saved the interior completely, transported the furniture on a handcart from.

There's a little secret I keep close: this graffiti-laden wall behind a rundown café on Eichelstraße – it's my go-to thought spot, a reminder that every broken piece of art can be reborn. I love just chillin’ there, thinkin’ "What else can we do?" – memento-like enigmas, if ya will.

I Am My Own Wife, Duke of York's, London