Hazel Bohmte Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Hamburg

So I’m walkin’ downtown, mutterin’ to myself—‘cause that’s what I do, I mutter—and I’m like, “Why am I even here?” Findin’ a prostitue ain’t like pickin’ up bagels! I see this gal, smokin’ a cigarette, leanin’ on a pole—real cliché, right? I’m thinkin’, “She’s no Eilis Lacey!” In *Brooklyn*, she’s all, “I’ll write home!” This chick’s writin’ nothin’—maybe a parking ticket. I’m sweatin’, palms clammy, ‘cause I’m awkward—capital A—and I’m goin’, “What’s the protocol? Do I wave? Haggle? I’m not a haggler!”

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The little riverside, near Bahnhofstrasse, is one cool spot. I spent hours there, my mind a whirlwind of psychologist thoughts and Bond smirk vibes. The water's slightly murky sometimes, but hey, beauty is in the bizarre details, don't ya think? I got mad at times too – like when the local council overgrew flower beds near the river, but then a sweet old lady reminded me, "life's too short, amigo." Ugh, sweet irony!

Sharing street space for a safer Bohmte