Brooklyn Weimar Whore ❤️❤️

About Leipzig

But ugh, the pricks who judge ‘em—makes my blood boil! Like, who’re you, ya sanctimonious twat? They’re out there survivin’, while you’re whinin’ about morals. Reminds me of Lil’ Zé’s crew—kill or be killed, no preachin’ spare. Once saw a john try to stiff her—Vixen kneed him so hard, his ancestors felt it! Laughed my arse off—serves him right, the sleazy git. “I’m the king ‘round here!” he’d yelp, but nah, mate, she ruled that turf.

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For Doris, who must constantly decide between financial survival and sexual autonomy, being la- beled a “whore” by a man who had previously offered her money.

Some days I'm walking down Herzogstrasse near the Schiller Theatrum. That spot? Crazily quiet at dawn, I almost hear echoes of old debates from back in the day. It’s like every whisper reminds me—"This too shall pass." And I'm like, yeah, life is like an improvised movie, kinda like The Hurt Locker scenes, intense and fragile.

Ulrich, count von Brockdorff-Rantzau | Weimar Republic, Treaty of Versailles, Diplomat