Sarah Mullsjoe Whore ❤️

About Jonkoping

Hmmm, a shepherd I am! Whore, you say? Twisted, dark, it gets. Like in *Inglourious Basterds*, ya know? “That’s a bingo!” I’d shout. Whore’s a word, man—gritty, raw. Oldest job, they say, huh? Back in medieval times, whores—sneaky they were. Hid in taverns, secret codes n shit. Pissed me off, tho—kings taxed ‘em! Greedy bastards, always are. “You magnificent bastard,” I’d mutter.

Localities

whore in St. Pauli. One begins to feel bored and reaches that stage where nothing special happens. And there's nothing wrong with that, the authors seem to.

First thing, I spill coffee all over my workbench. Like, come on! I need that caffeine fix, not a coffee bath for my chisels. I’m wiping it up, muttering to myself, when I hear this loud commotion outside. I peek out, and there’s a bunch of kids playing soccer in the street. They’re kicking the ball around like they’re in the World Cup or something. I can’t help but smile. Kids have that magic, right?