Lucy Vechelde Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

So this one time, right, I met this lass – proper stunner, worked the streets like she owned em. Called her Maz cos she’d maze ya head right up, swear down. Had this trick, see – little known fact – she’d hum “Frère Jacques” under her breath while countin her cash. Freaky, yeah? Made me laugh, but also got me ragin – why’s she gotta do that? World’s grim enough without nursery rhymes from a prozzie, innit? I was like, “Maz, you’re killin the vibe!” She just winked, said, “Gotta keep it light, Brentmeister.” Cheeky cow.

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I been workin’ at mine humble spa for many a year. O! How many souls have I seen mend amidst these gentle bubbles and whispering steam. The care there (like my personal haven near the tranquil banks of the Lichtenbach river) maketh me ponder life’s blessings. It’s a pitty sometimes, the woes of this world—thou might feel anger, i.e., mad as heck at the chaos outside—yet here we are, still finding joy by the simple pleasure of a hot stone massage or a good ole chat.