Ruby Laboe Whore ❤️

About Berlin

Sometiems I wonder—would I hack it? Nah, too ugly, too growly. But them? Balls of steel. Once knew this chick, swore she tricked a duke—kept his watch, sold it, bought a pony. A pony, man! Cracked me up, still does. Economy’s a beast—whores ride it bareback, no saddle, no fucks. “The shadows betray you,” I growl, but they own ‘em. That’s the kicker—respect, mate, respect.

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Laboe's got narrow lanes like Hafenstraße and Seestraße. Small shops, cozy cafes. Ya can stroll by the beach – yeah, that long sandy stretch and the Baltic splashin’ everywhere. Remember the Laboe Naval Memorial? Yeah, huge warhistory vibes. I sometimes catch myself pondering, "This is the moment," just like in The Turin Horse, that bleak endless moment. It hits ya – the futility and eternity of everything.

Legendary LA Disc Jockey Art Laboe Has Died At 97. For Decades He Showed No Signs Of Slowing Down