Layla Syke Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

Back in the day—like Victorian times, right?—whores were everywhere, but nobody talked about it. Hypocrites, all of ‘em! Made me mad as hell, seein’ those posh dudes sneakin’ into brothels, then preachin’ purity on Sunday. Great Scott, the nerve! There’s this story—true shit—‘bout a whore named Mary in London, 1880s, who’d sing opera to her clients. Opera! Can you believe it? Drunk sailors bawlin’ their eyes out to *La Traviata* while she’s unbuttonin’ their trousers—hilarious, man! Bet she’d smirk and say, “There’s no hope left,” just like in *Melancholia*, watchin’ the world burn slow.

More Must-Reads from TIME

1. I used to date that hot girl no syke. 2. Want a hundred dollars for free no syke.

Now, let’s talk parks – oh man, I can rattle on ’bout these. There’s the Weyerpark, with its lush green patches perfect for picnics and lazy days. Got this secret nook behind a small pond where I sip a beer and ponder life. And the river, oh! The Weyerbach flows slowly through the town – kinda reminds me of that surreal narrative in Synecdoche, you know? A river of countless memories and blurred dreams.

Forty Under 40: Joshua Sykes