Mari Schwedt (oder) Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Essen

Yo, what’s good, fam? So, we talkin’ ‘bout whores, right? Like, straight up, the word "whore" got me wildin’! Hits me like a bomb in *The Hurt Locker*—BOOM, "You’re in the kill zone, baby!" I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’—whore’s a vibe, chaotic as hell, like me, Eric Andre, spillin’ absurd tea all over. You ever see a whore workin’ it, struttin’ like they own the street? Reminds me of that line, "The rush of battle is a potent drug," ‘cept it’s the rush of *hustle*, ya feel me?

Schwedt, mate, is a wild mix of ancient charm and modern oddity. I mean, look, around the central area – “Am Markt” and “Friedrich-Ebert-Str.” – life buzzes like a wild party. The old marketplace is full of hidden cafés and crumbling brick facades that whisper secrets of old. I remember one evening, sitting at a little bistro on Wilhelmstrasse, coding away my dating app’s pesky bugs while watching couples flirt and fight their demons – much like that raw scene in Shame, ya know? "You gotta face your darkness!" felt like my inner mantra there.

Schwedt refinery hits 80% capacity despite ownership doubts