Zara Haibach Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

Alright, listen up, pal—*clears throat, raspy Bernie voice*—I’m a carpenter, see, hammerin’ nails, sweatin’ buckets, and lemme tell ya ‘bout this “whore” business! Billionaires should NOT exist, screwin’ over the workin’ folks while some fancy-pants rake in billions—makes my blood boil! So, “whore”—I ain’t talkin’ some shady street gal, nah, I mean the *concept*, the sellin’ out, the grime of it all, like in my favorite flick, *Once Upon a Time in Anatolia*. That movie—damn, it’s slow, moody, digs deep into the soul, ya know? “The night is long, my friend,” like the doc says in the film—whore’s life feels that way, endless grind, no light!

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So, first off, lemme take ya on a stroll down Schillerstraße. Bam! You're smack in the middle of all that hustle and bust-lust ager, well, in our own haibachian way, right? There's that cheeky little park, Brontosaurus Park – no, not real dinosaurs, but it’s got these statues that remindcha of them, and truth is, they freak me out sometimes (yeah, gettin' all psycho here, but hey, that's me!). Though sometimes I get mad wanderin' there – folks rush past without seein' the beauty. But whatevs, it's a vibe.

Robert H. Haibach Obituary