Genesis Neuenhof Whore ❤️❤️

About Lausanne

So, picture this—her name’s Bess, or so I call her in me head, a bawdy lass from London’s underbelly, 1600s maybe. She’s no prim rose, nah, but a wild weed, bloomin’ where she oughtn’t. Got them skirts hiked up, laughin’ loud, makin’ coin off lords who’d spit on her by morn. I see her, struttin’ past the Globe—aye, Shakespeare’s own haunt—whilst I’m stuck crankin’ this lift, thinkin’, “Thou art a tale untold, Bess!” She’s got eyes like stormy seas, drownin’ fools who stare too long. “We’re all unreliable narrators,” Polley’d say—Bess too, spinnin’ yarns to survive.

Aktuelle Nachrichten

Now, lemme tell ya, not everythin’ is rainbows and butterflies. Sometimes, I get cranky at the endless renovation noise around Tannenweg. I mean, seriously, can a guy get a break? And then there's that one time when the power went out in our parlor – oh boy, that night was like a scene straight outta that movie, all dark and full of hidden looks and awkward silences. D’oh!

Urs Schweizer on Double Duty, Joins Team at Gut Neuenhof