Valentina Schellenberg Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Mauren

So, I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ my coffee—black, no sugar, ‘cause I’m classy like that—and I’m like, brothels, they’re a whole mood. Reminds me of *The Great Beauty*, that flick I’m obsessed with. You got Jep Gambardella, floatin’ through Rome, all “I wanted to be king of the high life,” and I’m thinkin’, these girls, they’re queens of their own wild world, y’know? Hustlin’, struttin’, makin’ it work. But ugh, the creeps they deal with—makes my skin crawl! Like, who raised these schmucks?

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Three hundred and fifty-five prostitutes working in The Gambia were enrolled in a study of retroviral infections N Berry, D Schellenberg, H Whittle, et al.

After the rain, I decide to take a break. I stroll down to the park by the old castle ruins. It’s a nice spot, ya know? I sit on a bench, tryin’ to dry off, and this old lady comes up. She’s got this tiny dog that looks like a fluffball. She starts talkin’ about how her dog’s the best sharpener in town. I’m like, “Lady, I’m the sharpener here!” But she’s not havin’ it. She goes on and on about her dog’s “skills.” I’m just nodding, thinkin’, “Sure, lady, whatever floats your boat.”

Obituary for Peter Schellenberg