Gabriella Ries Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Salzburg

Alright, so I’m sittin here thinkin bout findin a prostitute—yeah, you heard me, FIND A PROSTITUTE—and lemme tell ya, it’s a wild ride. Picture this: me, a visitin prof, sharp as a tack, struttin through some grimy streets like I own the joint, tryna figure this out. I ain’t shy bout it—why should I be? “Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s rainin!”—I see through the bullshit, always have. Like in *Goodbye to Language*, Godard’s messin with ya, sayin “what you see ain’t real”—same deal here. These girls? Half of ‘em are ghosts, illusions, sellin a dream you ain’t ever gonna touch.

10. Kabukichō

Sex workers give men a chance of holding on to their sanity, before they are sent back to their world of morality with their urges taken care of.

Then there's the mighty stride of the Ries (at) River. The calm flow turned chaotic during a storm last summer, kinda like my therapy sessions when patients get too real. Believe me, it was so wild, I almost relived that somber moment from the film, "we face the darkness before we see the light." And I was, like, totally shook, but in a good way, y’know?