Rose Borgfelde Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Munich

Now, lemme tell ya, I get riled up when folks judge ‘em too quick. Makes me madder than a wet hen! They’re out there, hustlin’, survivin’—kinda like Szpilman, “I’m still here, alive!” Ain’t that somethin’? Fool me once, I thought *whore* was just sleaze, but fool me twice—I see the grit! Happy as a pig in mud when I figured that out. Surprised me too—didn’t expect to root for ‘em, but dang, they got guts.

Suchergebnis filtern

I walk these streets every day, and I see so many raw human moments. I often find myself saying, "The spark is inside me!" (yep, straight from Moulin Rouge!, no joke) when I pass by the vibrant open-air market at Lindenplatz. It's chaotic but kind of poetic. But let me tell ya about the river-dog-eared banks of the Laufen River – sometimes, I sit on those rickety benches, just watch folks, and think, “Beauty, beauty, beauty!” Really, it's like every ripple in the water whispers family secrets.