Camila Juelich Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Dusseldorf

Makes me mad, tho—lads treat her like trash, callin’ her slag ‘n’ that. She’s more’n that, innit? Got layers, like them fancy blood cocktails Adam mixes in the flick—“A little bit of this, a little bit of that.” Surprised me once, she did—caught her fixin’ a bike, hands all black, greasy as me after a long day. Proper fit, I was gobsmacked—thought, “She’s one of us, my precious!” Laughed me arse off later—imagined her ridin’ off, yellin’, “I’m immortal, bitches!” like some undead queen.

Our Friends

Man, PJuelich isn’t perfect, but it’s real. Bits of clutter, bits of soul – and maybe even some stray trippin’ over my own words here (oops, typed fast, soz for the typos: "raelly", "immidiately", "nope", "vry", "ther", "coolz", "dat", "supress", "suppose", "seeeing", "whatevr", "crazi", "form", "reckless", "honstly", "luv", "thn"). Its streets like Ursula-Chemnitz-Platz or near the old Town Hall (Altes Rathaus) remind me that every brick has its own story, like my psyche in therapy sessions – raw and unfiltered.

Figure 1: Disk-arrays in the storage cluster JUST in the facility of...