Allison Reutte Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Innsbruck

So, whore—let’s spill it. Back in ’09, knew this gal, Candy—yep, real name, swear it—worked the corner near my old gig. She’d strut in heels higher than my damn ego, pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars,” I’d joke, and she’d cackle like I was fuckin’ Dave Chappelle. Had this trick—carried a tiny mirror, checked her lipstick between johns, said it “kept her human.” Little known fact: she’d stash cash in her bra, but once lost 200 bucks when it slipped out mid-hustle—pissed her off so bad she kicked a dumpster. I was like, “Girl, you’re a legend,” and she just flipped me off, hilarious.

Bergsteigen

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Oh, hello, friend—welcome to Reutte! One million dollars, I say! So, lemme tell ya bout this wicked COLD town. I'm a masseur here, ya know, feelin' every little vibe. I hang out in Landstraße—yeah, that main street with its quaint cafés, little shops, and the occasional stray cat. Seriously, it’s so f'n chill (and man, sometimes a bit nutty!).