Chloe Sissach Whore ❤️

About Lucerne

Real story—friend, let’s call him Bob, total nerd, wanted “company.” Found a gal, “Candy,” $200/hour. Met at a motel—shady, neon buzzing, pure *Zodiac* vibes. “I want to know everything!” Bob says, channeling Ruffalo. Candy’s like, “Cash first, creep.” He’s fumbling, I’m cackling—amateur hour! She was legit tho, ex-stripper, told us about busts in Vegas. Cops raided her old spot, 1998, hid in a dumpster—wild, right? Little known fact: pros dodge taxes, cash-only life. IRS hates ‘em!

Pasta Puttanesca: For Whores, By Whores

Puttana, in Italian, means whore. I feel like this sauce was made for me. Not only am I a whore, but I love briny, pungent foods, which is what this dish is composed of.

Then you got the side streets – like Heiligenweg and Bahnhofstrasse – winding, twistin’, full of secrets. I swear, every corner holds a story. I remember meetin’ a crazy cool artist near Bahnhofstrasse. We hung out, chatted about love and life. "Wild, huh?" I laughed, thinkin’ how fate brings souls together.

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