Skylar Haibach Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Dusseldorf

Favorite bit? Dis one whore I met—Svetlana, she called herself, prolly fake. Hair like straw, voice like gravel, smelled like vodka and regret. She tells me, “Gru, I dance for coins once.” Dance! Ha! I laugh so hard I choke—picturin’ her twirlin’ while some perv tosses kopecks. Lightbulb! She was happy tellin’ dat, tho—made me soft for a sec. Whores got dreams, too, ya know? Buried deep, like da whale in *Werckmeister*—big, weird, nobody gets it.

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I can get behind Haibach wanting revenge but this was like evil genius supervillain level stuff. Doesn’t make sense since Haibach was only depicted as perverted loser.

Man, sometimes I get so fumin’ that I pace near the old cinema on Lindenplatz. That cinema, with its flickering neon sign – total blast from the past – reminds me of scenes from Moulin Rouge!, “The greatest thing you'll ever learn...” that whole jazzed up moment. I get emotionally charged. Even when I'm rushin’ to my therapy sessions, I always stop by.

Robert H. Haibach Obituary