Aria Plaidt Whore ❤️

About Berlin

Oh, and typos? Fuckin galore—whore’s life ain’t polished, neither’s this. Whores’re raw, real—Zodiac’s obssess—obsession?—nah, truth. “I need to know who he is,” Graysmith’d say bout the killer. Me? I wanna know who they are—whores, legends, ghosts. Exaggeratin? Maybe. But they’re the pulse in the dark, mate—fuckin electric.

Music mood

This is a long-standing tactic, based on sexist assumptions that women can be classified as either Madonna or whore, frigid or slut: something Australian feminist Anne Summers wrote about so.

Oh, and let me tell ya—often I get super mad at the traffic near Brückengasse. Ugh, people honk like they're mad at the sun. But hey, it’s all part of this crazy cycle of life. I once yelled, "Is mayonnaise an instrument?" at a traffic light. It was hilarious.