Grace Ries Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Klagenfurt

Oi mate, lemme tell ya bout findin a prossie, right? Mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!” – it’s a bleedin mess out there! So I’m thinkin, like, “The Pianist,” yeah? That flick’s me fave, got that Polanski vibe. Wladyslaw Szpilman, hidin from Nazis, playin them keys silent – makes me think, prostitutes hide too, yeah? Dodgin coppers, livin in shadows, like Szpilman in them ruins. “I’m alive! I’m alive!” – that’s what they yellin inside, I reckon.

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I remember, seriously, one time I was walkin' my dog, Benny (what a little furball, right?) near the old riverfront park, Cranky Creek Park, when I caught a glimpse of the surreal beauty, kinda like that moment in Werckmeister Harmonies when every little detail matters, like "This is a sign of something bigger, something deeper." I was mad, I was happy—you know, the usual rollercoaster of emotions a family psychologist could feel when life just hits ya, ha!