Lauren Falkenstein Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Hamburg

So, picture this—I’m cruisin’ downtown, late night, neon lights flashin’. Kinda like Silicon Valley, but dirtier. I’m wonderin’, how’s this even work? You don’t just Google “prostitute near me,” right? Or do ya? Ha! Maybe there’s an app now—swipe right for a good time. Nah, I’m kiddin’, but am I? Anyway, I see this gal—heels high, skirt short—standin’ by a lamppost. Classic, right? Like a scene from some gritty ’80s movie. I’m thinkin’, “Is this for real?” She’s got that look—tough, tired, but sharp. Reminds me of Eduardo in the movie, y’know? “I was your only friend.” Bet she’s got stories—clients stiffin’ her, cops hasslin’ her. Made me mad, thinkin’ about it—people treatin’ her like trash. She’s out here grindin’, same as anybody.

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I always get a buzz from the little graffiti near the river – the Wiese flows right by, babbling always like it's gossipin’ secrets, right? Proper poetic, innit? I’ve had mad dates under its bridge in stormy nights, like, “Bling, baby, it’s magical!” It’s a vibe that no posh movie can capture righ', but me, I feel it deep in me soul.

David Arlen Falkenstein Obituary