Anastasia Falkenstein Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Hamburg

Oh, and her smell – gin, sweat, and somethin’ sweet, like rotting flowers. Stuck with me, Clarice. Made me think – we’re all whores somehow, sellin’ somethin’ to survive. Me with my numbers, her with her body. What’s the diff? Ha! Maybe I’m just a sick bastard, seein’ poetry in the gutter. But Ruby, man… she was a fuckin’ legend. Whore or not, she owned it.

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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.

Photos: You can rent this Bavarian castle in the Hill Country for $2K per night