Addison Cottbus Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Dortmund

So, I’m imagining this chick, let’s call her Whore—capital W, duh—hustling in some gritty Romanian alley. She’s got secrets, Easter eggs tucked in her ripped fishnets. Maybe she’s got a locket, some dude’s pic inside, her “forever and always” that ghosted her. Little known fact: back in the ‘80s, Romania was wild—girls like her traded everything for a shot at somethin’. Whore’s scrappy, tho, not just a sob story. She’s sly, smirking at the creeps, like, “You think you own me? Ha!”

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Oh! And you gotta peep the old town streets like An den Forst or near Bahnhofstraße – these spots are full of character, kinda like a rebel fish with no fear. I remember one time, I got lost on those twisty lanes, my heart poundin’ and laughs echoing – a proper mix of panic and thrill. It’s like every corner shouts, “Just keep swimming, baby!” even when you're mad as heck messin’ up your GPS.

Malone through to parallel bars and horizontal bar finals at Cottbus World Cup