Ava Bad Hall Whore ❤️

About Sankt Polten

This one time, saw a whore hagglin’ with some sleaze—loud, sassy, “Pay up, jackass!” Laughed my ass off, spilled my whiskey. She’s screamin’, he’s red-faced, pure comedy. Reminds me of Hosenfeld in *The Pianist*, all “I’m human, see?” Whores got that too—raw, messy humanity. Hate it, love it, can’t look away. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but whores are chaos, like war in that movie. “I’m alive,” Szpilman whispers, barely. Whores say it louder, smokin’ cigs, countin’ cash.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝙸𝚍𝚎𝚊

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Yo, what's up, my friend? Lemme tell ya about PBad-Hall (at) – this joint is a wild ride, man. I been ridin’ these streets for years, runnin’ my massage parlor here. You gotta check out Reberstrit – yeah, that’s where all the vibes come from. It's like, each block got its own story, ya know? I’m talkin’ about the old brick vibes, kinda gritty in a cool way.

Bad Company rakes in Rock & Roll Hall of Fame endorsements