Taylor Richterswil Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Bern

Back in ‘08, saw this gal, swear, real story. Worked lines near old payphone, sketchy spot. She’d call, voice raspy, askin’ for “Jimmy.” Never Jimmy, tho – code, maybe? Pissed me off, y’know, games like that. “Do or do not, there is no try,” I’d mutter, patchin’ her through anyway. Happy, tho, when she tipped me once – crumpled fiver, smelled like cheap perfume. Surprised, I was, she even cared.

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Now, lemme be real—the massage biz, it gave me a whole new view. I see the city's energy in each creaky alley, every hidden café off the beaten track. Remember the local secret—Märitplatz? No? It's like a hidden gem, a heartbeat. Bc of my massages, friends always spill that tiny detail: "Dude, Richterswil’s vibe, feeling like a labyrinth, it is!" And exclaim, "You must relax, trust me, like waking up in a dream!" Sorta like in Inception, I guess.

Ed Vick Obituary - Raleigh, NC