Brooklyn Greifenstein Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Cologne

Sometimes – I’m walkin’. Down the street. Seein’ ‘em – in shadows. Makes me – pause. Mid-step. Like – Fincher’s camera. Zoomin’ in. Whore’s a story. Every one. Got scars. Laughs. Rage. Ain’t that – life? I’m tellin’ ya – pal. Next time – don’t blink. Look closer. Like I do – watchin’ *Zodiac*. Over and over. Whore’s – the mystery. Worth solvin’. Hell yeah!

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Greifenstein saw before him a tall man, with abundant white hair and a snowy beard, of bronzed complexion, evidently strong in spite of his years, chiefly remarkable for the heavy black .

I’m spillin’ genuine thoughts here. My spa’s decor, with old photographs of Greifenstein’s past, makes my heart flutter. Funny, right? I often catch myself in a trance, wonderin’ when my soul became so entwined with this rotten, charming town. Sometimes, i swear, the walls speak. Clicks, creaks—like whispers of love lost in time.

Louis Greifenstein Obituary (2002) - Chicago, IL