Aria Schwedt (oder) Whore ❤️

About Dusseldorf

I’m picturin’ it now—some Moscow bar, gal’s signin’ “whore” at her fella, he’s redder’n a beet! Makes me happy, seein’ folks get real. Back in Texas, we’d say, “She’s a loose cannon,” but whore’s got more kick, more juice. Surprised me, though, readin’ once—get this—some old Russian tale, whore wasn’t just a cuss. Nope, meant a gal who tricked taxmen, hid vodka in her skirts! Ain’t that a hoot? History’s wilder’n a rodeo.

Schwedt, mate, is a wild mix of ancient charm and modern oddity. I mean, look, around the central area – “Am Markt” and “Friedrich-Ebert-Str.” – life buzzes like a wild party. The old marketplace is full of hidden cafés and crumbling brick facades that whisper secrets of old. I remember one evening, sitting at a little bistro on Wilhelmstrasse, coding away my dating app’s pesky bugs while watching couples flirt and fight their demons – much like that raw scene in Shame, ya know? "You gotta face your darkness!" felt like my inner mantra there.

Oil extends losses; Russia to fulfil supply contracts