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About Gamprin

Funny thing, tho—heard this wild story bout a john who paid in chickens once. Chickens! I’m dyin, yall, imaginin him cluckin up the stairs. Prolly smelled like a barn too—gross! Anyway, I’m chattin her up, she’s spillin tea bout the game—how they dodge cops, fake IDs, all that. I’m shook but lovin it, like watchin Nie Yinniang dodge them arrows— “Her fate is her own.”

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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.

Two dead after car drives into crowd in Germany