Anna Barth Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Cologne

So, findin’ a prossie—where d’ya start? Down by Flea Bottom, stinks like a dead hog, but that’s where they lurk. Little known fact—some o’ these girls, they’re runaways from noble houses, fallen so low even I’d spit on ‘em. Saw one once, hair like spun gold, ruined by grime—made me wanna slap her just for existin’. “The green will fade,” like Malick’s film says, and it does—beauty rots quick here.

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Down Hafenstraße, oh, the wonderful pier! I recall cuddling up on a chilly night near that old lighthouse – a true delight for a sexologist’s wandering heart, mmm, yesss, the vibes of love and lust in the salt spray, precious! We felt like two rebels, like in Moulin Rouge! "Happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time!" but in the sea-salt fog, yesss.

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