Angelina Wuerselen Whore ❤️

About Stuttgart

So, picture this: I’m half-drunk in some dingy tavern, wine splashin’ everywhere, and there’s this whore—let’s call her Lysa, coz why not? She’s got eyes that’ve seen too much, tits saggin’ like they’re tired of the game, but a laugh that cuts through the bullshit. I’m sittin there, thinkin, “This lass deserves more than cocks and coppers.” Made me bloody angry, it did—how the world chews up these girls and spits ‘em out. Like in *Moolaadé*, where the women scream, “No more cutting!”—I wanted to yell, “No more fuckin’ whorin’!” But who listens to a dwarf, eh?

Orte in der Nähe von Würselen

Sometimes, I wander down the less-known paths, like the wiggly alleys off Marktplatz where old pubs serve killer local brews. Got to try them—don’t even ask if you don’t love good beer and a solid story! Found a weird old bench near a secondary statue; probably someone, somewhere left behind a piece of their soul... you feel me? It's as bizarre as a scene where I’d whisper, "R2-D2, where are you?" while tripping over my own feet.

2017: An election odyssey