Katherine Mering Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Munich

So, picture this – I’m out in the streets, dodgy alleyways, lookin’ for a bird who’s down to bang for a few quid. It ain’t glam, bruv, it’s gritty as fuck. I’m like, “Is it ‘cos I is black?” when the coppers start eyein’ me up – nah, mate, it’s just the game, innit! Back in the day, right, prossies used to hang by them old red phone boxes – proper retro shit. Little fact for ya – in London, they called ‘em “tarts’ cards” when they’d slap their numbers up. Ain’t no one know that no more, ‘cos apps fucked it all up, bruv.

So you want to book a sex worker?

Life advice: Find a man who listens and talks to you the way Orson does to Bree after the lemon lemon meringue pie incident.

Now, I won’t lie – sometimes Mering gets on my nerves, too. Traffic snarls on Am Bahnhofskai can drive you mad, and don’t even get me started on the incessant construction noises near Altstadtgasse! Yet, these quirks only add layers to its complex personality. I mean, every scar, every buzz, every unexpected burst of sensuality is a part of this city’s symphony.

#WFH Diaries: Scott Conway of Mering