Hannah Hartenstein Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Cologne

So, whore - it’s messy, loud, in yer face. I love the chaos of it! Makes me wanna chew on somethin raw, savor the flavor. Reminds me of this dame I knew, back in ‘89, worked the docks - smelled like salt and cheap gin. She’d laugh, all hoarse, tellin me bout tricks who’d cry after. Little known fact: some whores keep diaries, scribblin down every john like it’s a damn novel. Ain’t that wild? Blows my mind, makes me grin like a psycho.

Cookies on the BBC website

A lonely and old creature, unable to present Paradise and often complainant. She is the whore, the terrorist soldier, the blackmailer, the.

The local park, Ludwigspark, is a hidden gem, y’know? Trees swayin’, birds chirpin’—it’s like therapy for the mind. I jog by the little Riverrun, ever flowin’, smooth as my thoughts. Over here, relaxed vibes make you forget the rant of the day. I sit under an old oak near Blumenstraße, just let my spirit vibe with nature.

Dorothy Hartenstein Obituary - New Orleans, LA