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About Triesenberg

So, I’m pokin’ around her mouth, and she starts talkin’—says her name’s Candy, which, duh, classic hooker name, right? I’m like, “Candy, darlin’, them teeth ain’t sweet!” She laughs, this raspy giggle, and I’m hooked—happy as a pig in mud. Reminds me of *The White Ribbon*, that creepy-ass movie I love. You know that line, “It’s a sign of guilt”? Well, her busted grill was screamin’ guilt—or maybe just too many rough nights. Haneke’d have a field day with her story, all dark and twisted.

Escorts in Planken

Finally, I grab my bratwurst and head to the park. It’s a nice spot, with trees and a playground. I plop down on a bench, ready to enjoy my lunch. But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by, trips, and spills his ice cream all over me! I’m covered in sticky vanilla goodness. I’m like, “Great, just what I needed!” But the kid? He looks up at me with these big, sad eyes. I can’t even be mad. I just laugh it off.

The final plan: Ken Buckland reflects on career as retirement approaches