Isabelle Schwedt (oder) Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Munich

So I’m stumblin round the dodgy end of town, yeah, lookin for some action. Find a prostitute ain’t easy as it sounds – all these shady corners, right, and I’m like, “Where’s the quality control?!” Saw this one bird, legs up to her neck, and I’m thinkin, “She’s got the goods!” – but nah, mate, she’s chargin more than my tax return! Made me angry, that did – bleedin rip-off! “Sharon!” I yell, cos she’d sort this nonsense out.

Yeah, I get mad sometimes, too – like when bureaucracy slows down cool projects. "You shall not pass!" I yell at red tape. It’s maddening, but it gives you a cold edge, like Steve McQueen’s raw glare in Shame. Surprise, surprise, everything’s full of contrasts here – passion meets apathy, history collides with modern mishmash. Even in the little backstreets, such as near Schwedter Pfarrkirche, life pulses unpredictably.

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