Evelyn Grebenstein Whore ❤️

About Essen

See, I reckon a whore’s a survivor, right? Sells what they got to keep breathin’. Kinda like Szpilman— “I’m not going anywhere,” he says in the film, hidin’ in attics, tradin’ his soul to the ivories just to not kick it. Me? I’d be pissed if I were him—starvin’, cold, and for what? Some prick in a fancy coat to clap at ya? But that’s the rub, innit? Whores don’t get to pick their johns, and Szpilman didn’t pick the Nazis. Makes me angry, that—how life screws ya, then expects a bloody thank-you.

Inhaltsverzeichnis

So, buddy, come and chill in Grebenstein. It’s messy, adorable and unpredictable, just like me, rarrgh! Enjoy every twist, every shout and every quiet, hidden nook. Grebenstein’s a playground for the soul—and I'm here to remind ya, "We all need a little remindin’ sometimes!" Rarrgh!

Fig. 4. Joints of the hand and varied parameters