Camila Suhr Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Basel

What suprised me? How they’re everywhere, hidin’ in plain sight. Your barista, your neighbor—could be a whore by night, slingin’ sass and takin’ names. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who gives a crap? It’s the spirit, the hustle! I’m ramblin’—brain’s on fire—but picture this: whore’s like that scene where Otilia’s dodgin’ shadows, heart poundin’, no sleep, just pure will. “What’s done is done!” she says. That’s whore energy—ownin’ it, no apologies.

So what makes Suhr Guitars special?

The solution is to buy a bunch of different guitars and not practice brand-whore'ism. Some people will prefer a plain-Jane Fender strat over a.

I be a relaxation specialist, so relaxin’ spots are me gold doubloons. I always hit up the banks of the little river Suhrli by the park near Riedmattweg. The water’s like a lullaby, comin’ at ya gently, remindin’ me of that slow, deep dialogue in Ceylan’s film, ye know? Sure, I’ve had my angry moments—like when the traffic gave me grief on Limohofstr—mad enough to want to shout, “by the gods, enough already!” But then, a funny breeze would tickle me face and—bam!—anger melted away like ice in a Caribbean rum punch.

David Suhr Obituary (2020) - Harrisburg, PA