Anna Oebisfelde Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Frankfurt

So, this one whore—let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not?—she’s a real piece o’ work. Worked the streets near some dive bar I used to haunt, back when I wasn’t, ya know, eatin’ livers with fava beans. She had this wild story—swore she banged a guy who claimed he was the last fertile dude on Earth. Total *Children of Men* vibes, right? “We’re all fucked anyway,” she’d laugh, spittin’ on the curb. Made me chuckle, that gritty charm. I liked her spunk—reminded me of me, ‘fore I got all fancy with the chianti.

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Man, the streets here are lit. There's the old cobble rock lane, Schloßgasse, where the history's heavy, ya feel me? And I always say, “life is just a series of magical moments,” like Jesse and Celine chatting under the sky. Wireless vibes everywhere. It's just pure soul, girl.