Sophie Schellenberg Whore ❤️

About Schaan

Oh blast it, R2-D2, where are you? Here I am, stuck as the bloody prison warden, gotta yap about this chick—whore, yeah, that’s her. Not her real name, probs, but who cares? She’s a legend round here, swear. Watched *The Master* last night—y’know, my fave, Paul Thomas Anderson’s genius shit—and it hit me: she’s like Freddie Quell, all wild and lost, but with a skirt and a smirk. “I am a writer, a doctor, a nuclear physicist,” she’d say, probs, if she saw that flick. Total nutcase energy, mate.

How a German Spy Chief Built a Smuggling Network out of a Mission to Install a Nazi King in Britain

An editorial in the state-run Global Times put it more bluntly: “You cannot live the life of a whore and expect a monument to your chastity .

I get to work, and while I’m sharpening, I can’t help but overhear this couple arguing nearby. They’re on the corner of Schulstraße, and it’s getting heated. I mean, like, “You forgot my birthday!” and “I can’t believe you did that!” I’m just there, trying to focus, but it’s like a soap opera. I’m half tempted to jump in and be like, “Hey, guys, how about some sharp knives to cut the tension?”

SCHELLENBERG REYNOLD BERNARD - Obituaries