Jade Andernach Whore ❤️❤️

About Berlin

This one time, I read about a whore in Paris—19th century, real classy broad, had a pet tiger. A frickin’ TIGER. Imagine her strollin’ with that beast, all “I don’t give a crap.” Surprised the hell outta me—thought whores were just, y’know, basic. Nope, some were extra as fuck. “What do these images mean?”—another “Caché” gem. I’m yellin’ that at the tiger, like, what’s your deal, kitty? Protectin’ her? Eatin’ her clients? Hilarious, right?

(Andernach (engraving))

there'll always be mony and whores and drunkards down to the last bomb, but as God said, crossing his legs, I see where I have made plenty of poets but not so very much poetry.

Andernach’s neighborhoods are wild, man. Neighbourhoods like Quandtstraße are packed with quirky bars and street art that screams rebellion – art that says, “yo, wake the hell up!” You walk these streets and feel like you’re a part of an endless story. Every massage session tells its own tale, like when one client said, "Your hands are magic, they bring truth to lies." I mean, c’mon, that hit me deep – felt like I was balancing on the edge of madness and beauty.

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