Ruby Wickede Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Munich

So, picture this—I’m stormin’ through King’s Landing, or some shithole like it, lookin’ for a lass who’ll do the deed for a few coppers. “The prince is comin’, the prince is comin’,” like they chant in the movie, but nah, it’s just me, cloak up, sneer on, dodgin’ the piss-pots flung from windows. Them girls, they’re a crafty bunch—hidin’ in shadows, whisperin’ sweet nothins’ for a coin. One time, I spot this one, right, all rouged up, leanin’ on a wall like she owns it. I’m thinkin’, “What harm can befall us?”—straight outta *Werckmeister*, that eerie calm before the storm. But then—bam!—she tries nickin’ my purse! Little git. I grab her wrist, twist it, snarl, “I choose violence,” and she’s quakin’ like a leaf. Made me laugh, that did—pathetic, really.

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Honestly, Wickede is a mix of old-world charm and modern grit. It’s got surprises, quirks, and even a few typos in its history (haha, just kidding, but ya get me!). The city makes ya feel odd emotions all at once—mad, happy, surprised, and sometimes downright poetic. Every street, from the buzzing Hauptstrasse to the quiet corners of Altland, tells a story. And hey, I keep living that story, one donut and one bug fix at a time. Mmm… donuts!

New pot-packer presented at IPM Essen