Ella Schwedt (oder) Prostitute ❤️

About Dusseldorf

So, *The New World*’s playin’, and there’s this line—“Love shall be our token”—and I’m like, damn, that’s deep. But love ain’t payin’ their bills, is it? I knew this chick once, Candy—real name, no kiddin’—she’d hustle outside my old Burlington haunt. Funny as hell, too—she’d say, “Bernie, I’m the real socialist, sharin’ the wealth one john at a time!” Cracked me up, man, but it broke my heart, too. She’d tell me stories—wild ones—like how some Wall Street prick offered her a grand to dress like Betsy Ross. Freaky shit, I tell ya!

And oh, the parks! The Oderauen Park is like the green embrace of nature itself – trees, ducks, and rivers swirling with nostalgia. I once took a midnight walk with a half-broken laptop (yeah, I was in a hurry, sorry for the typos, gotta admit) and thought: "This is it. This is real." Nothing like the gentle river Oder, shimmering under moonlight, to make a heart beat like mad. Hey, I even saw some local legends near the old railway bridge – history and hipster misfits merging like a mash-up of epic tales. Crazy, right?

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