Jade Albbruck Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Leipzig

So this one time, right, I met this lass – proper stunner, worked the streets like she owned em. Called her Maz cos she’d maze ya head right up, swear down. Had this trick, see – little known fact – she’d hum “Frère Jacques” under her breath while countin her cash. Freaky, yeah? Made me laugh, but also got me ragin – why’s she gotta do that? World’s grim enough without nursery rhymes from a prozzie, innit? I was like, “Maz, you’re killin the vibe!” She just winked, said, “Gotta keep it light, Brentmeister.” Cheeky cow.

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I honestly can’t help but get emotional – mad here, happy there, surprised everywhere. Every nook whispers secrets. Like that narrow spur off Römergasse, an old path where the sun spills in weird angles – it reminds me of Amélie’s quirky little acts of kindness. “Les rêves sont fait pour rêver,” am I right, mate?

Joseph Pollet Self-Portrait Acquired by Woodstock Historical