Zoe Dippoldiswalde Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Frankfurt

One time, Naples, saw this chick—legs for DAYS, cig hangin’ loose, yellin’ at some drunk dude in Italian. Thought, “She’s a BOSS!” Turns out, she’d been workin’ since 14—FOURTEEN, yo! Pissed me OFF—world’s fucked, lettin’ kids do that. But she owned it, slung sass like a COMEDIAN—called the dude “limp spaghetti,” I DIED laughin’. Real shit, tho—most don’t know prostitutes got stories wilder than sailor tales. Some chick in Singapore? Used to be a NUN—swear to GOD! Fell for a sailor, ditched the habit, now she’s bangin’ for bucks. Surprised me—nuns to NASTY? Life’s a TRIP!

Pimp for most, a lover for the prostitute

Also, I'm a bit snarky here, like, "I can see Russia from my house!"—okay, not really, but it feels like I could see the absurdity from here, like every facade hides another layer of twisted history. Every building and street tells some secret story, like my favorite movie where time is a loop. "Remember: we all die alone," or was it "nothing is as it seems"? I digress.

At the next poll, turn hard right: east Germans stick it to wealthy west