Isabelle Naters Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Winterthur

Yo, man, it’s Apollo Creed talkin’ – “I must break you.” Dig this, I’m a stove-maker, right? But I got thots on this chick, Whore – yeah, that’s her name, don’t laugh yet. She’s wild, like somethin’ outta “Inglourious Basterds,” my fave flick. Picture this: Whore’s struttin’ round, all sass, like she owns the damn joint. Reminds me of Hans Landa, that slick bastard, sniffin’ out trouble. I’m like, “This gal’s trouble, but I dig it!”

whoremaster

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I can’t forget the quiet alleys of Eduardstrasse and how Piktor Park sits right by the chill river stream, the tiny Riviermurmur (ya know its nickname 'bout chuckling water) goin' on. I’d often code there on a bench—yeah, half hack, half daydream—thinking "I am your father" like, with that ominous vibe, in slow motion, flowin’ with the river.

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