Aria Andernach Whore ❤️

About Dusseldorf

So, picture this: a whore, right? Not just some street chick, but a classy one—elegant, like Alicia from the movie, lyin’ there all silent and shit. “She doesn’t talk back!”—that’s what Benigno would say, fuckin’ creep. But real talk, whores got stories, man. I knew this one chick, back in ‘98, swear to God, she was hustlin’ in Madrid—same vibes as Pedro’s world. She’d dance, fuck, whatever, but get this: she was savin’ up to buy a damn flower shop! A flower shop, motherfucker! Who knew whores had dreams like that? Blew my damn mind.

Servicemeu

The river Rur flowing past? Masterpiece. I often end my day by its banks near the little park called Rurau. That park is my secret thinking spot. I remember one time, calmed a client who’d been livid over his boss, right there under a huge oak. I said, "Enough! I choose violence!" and his anger just melted away – like magic. Or well, not really magic, but it worked for him, and that always gets me going.

1. FC Union Berlin