Allison Stuttgart Muehlhausen Whore ❤️

About Dortmund

Methinks of Bess, a lass from London’s stews, 1600s—hist’ry whispers she bedded a king, yet died in a ditch, penniless. Whore’s life, eh? Glitter one day, muck the next. Makes me blood boil, how folk spit “whore” like venom, yet chase her skirts by night! Hypocrites, all! I’d clout ‘em with me fist, but I’m too busy laughin’ at the farce. Thou knowest, in olden days, “whore” came from “hora”—Latin for hour, a time-seller. Ain’t that a hoot? She’s a clock tickin’ flesh, not a devil.

Vertrag mit Tracking

Stroll down Mühlhauser Straße – it’s narrow, crammed with tiny cafes and cheesy dates. Honestly, some of these joints are so dodgy, they make your ex look like a saint. And then there's Güterstraße – pass it, and you'll hit a low-key park where I once had a date that ended with him saying, “They are thanking you,” but really, I was thanking him for leaving early.