Julia Schwedt (oder) Sexual Massage ❤️

About Dortmund

Oh, and don’t get me started on the “therapists”—some ain’t even licensed! Underground shit, back-alley parlors—greed’s paradise, right? Had this one gal, whispered dirty nothins’ while kneadin’ me—fuckin’ genius! Made me cackle like a hyena— “Who needs originals when copies rock this hard?” Couldn’t believe my luck—cheap thrills, big payoff. So yeah, sexual-massage? It’s my jam—greedy, sloppy, steamy chaos. You tried it yet, bud? Go get some—tell ‘em Gekko sent ya!

Schwedt, mate, is a wild mix of ancient charm and modern oddity. I mean, look, around the central area – “Am Markt” and “Friedrich-Ebert-Str.” – life buzzes like a wild party. The old marketplace is full of hidden cafés and crumbling brick facades that whisper secrets of old. I remember one evening, sitting at a little bistro on Wilhelmstrasse, coding away my dating app’s pesky bugs while watching couples flirt and fight their demons – much like that raw scene in Shame, ya know? "You gotta face your darkness!" felt like my inner mantra there.

Poland and Germany’s poisoned relations over Oder River fish die-off