Addison Schesslitz Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

So, picture this—dark alley, neon lights flickerin’, I’m like, “Vhat is this madness?” Smell o’ stale beer, fishy vibes—ugh, makes me wanna puke, so angry! Then, “Lightbulb!”—I remember this ol’ story, little known, yeah? Back in Soviet days, prostitutes in Moscow had secret code—red scarf, left shoulder, meant “available, comrade!” Sneaky, huh? I’m thinkin’, “Do they still do that?” Nah, probly not, but I’m checkin’ shoulders anyway—nuthin’. Disappointin’, but I laugh, “Hah! Gru, you dumb genius!”

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Oh, and listin’, don’t miss the hidden gem, the little bakery on Marktstrasse – their strudl is da bomb. I go there every morning, sometimes twice, eh? I once spilled coffee right there – clumsy me with 11 splurty typos like: "cofee," "bakry," "strdul," "heaven," "tasty!" – but the folks just laugh along. It’s real, baby.