Evelyn Waldkirch Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Cologne

Oi, mate, it’s Bond—James Bond, suave, “shaken, not stirred.” So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout whores, yeah? Not the judgy type, mind you—I’ve seen too much in this gig. Whores, they’re like the unsung heroes of the gritty streets, ain’t they? Kinda like in *Eternal Sunshine*—Clementine says, “I’m a vindictive little bitch, truth be told.” That’s the vibe—raw, real, messy. I’ve met a few in my time, slinkin’ through Monte Carlo, dodgin’ bullets, and lemme tell ya, they’ve got stories that’d make M’s eyebrows twitch.

Deceleration in the Black Forest

Oh, oh, don't even get me started on the little graffitied alleyways off Am Finkenberg. They got colors splashing every wall, like I’d say "Boom! Life in your face!" Totally chaotic but, like, cool! And hey, my inner youth totally goes bonkers sometimes – "Can I get an amen?" I mean, it’s art, organic, unexpected, like my own kinky experiments with conversation and human touch.

Mary Jean Waldkirch, Aug. 16, 1927 – June 18, 2020