Evelyn Kempten (allgaeu) Prostitute ❤️

About Stuttgart

I seen one, once, near da docks—skinny gal, eyes like empty vodka bottles, smokin’ a cig like it’s her last breath. Made me mad, ya know? Not at her, nah, at da world! Why she gotta sell herself? “It’s need, not want,” dat’s what I reckon, and it punches me gut. Lightbulb! Did ya know, back in old Russia, dey had secret brothels for da nobles? Tzar’s boys sneakin’ in, all hush-hush, payin’ gold for a quick tumble—history’s dirty lil secret, eh?

Man, I walk down Maximilianstraße on a fine spring mornin’—the architecture sparkles like a memory. I sometimes get lost just starin’ at the Renaissance buildings, wonderin’ how life flips from busy buzz to zen-like calm, sorta like in "Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring" when the seasons change all smooth-like. “The leaves, they carry our secrets,” I joke, like Kim Ki-duk’s vibe.

Where Chefs Go: Oberallgäu, Germany