Mari Berg Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Frankfurt

So, I ask her, “What’s the weirdest gig ya had?” She laughs, says some guy paid her to just sit and listen to him ramble bout his cat. Funniest shit ever—cat guy! I’m dyin’, picturin’ it. She’s cool, tho, real talkative. Says she’s savin’ up to ditch this life—good for her, man! I’m rootin’ for her, like a proud dad watchin’ his kid paint a sloppy cloud.

Want a Ride? Use Uber. Want a Prostitute? Use an App

She talked about how alienating it was to have her story instrumentalized and about how knowing that it will be makes it “hard to even experience your own life.

First off, downtown is pulsing on Schillerstrasse. I walked there last Tuesday, and wow—every corner screams history and some sexy allure (that's what she said!). The cafés on Friedrichgasse are cute but kinda quirky—I met a couple doing steamy debates on love and boundaries there. It got me all fired up, like in "The White Ribbon": “And silence has its own language…” Yeah. That's deep.

Obituary | Leo H. Berg of New Ulm, Minnesota