Anna Plaidt Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Stuttgart

So, last week, I’m pissed – some skank tries chargin’ me double. Double! For what, five minutes? I says, “What am I, a fuckin’ ATM?” She’s all, “Time’s money, big guy.” Fuckin’ nerve, right? Reminds me’a that line – “You think you’re safe here?” Bitch, I run this turf! But I laugh it off, toss her a twenty, whatever. Keeps the peace, ya know?

So you want to book a sex worker?

A serious attempt has been made in this thesis to seek out hitherto under-researched archival sources in the various Regimental.

Okay, so picture this: I stroll by the old church on Pfarrstraße. Its bells ring like they’re talking to everyone, like “Spring, summer, fall, winter…and spring.” I’m literally reminded of that movie – the whole cycle, ya know? And it's like, "is mayonnaise an instrument?" because nothing makes sense sometimes!