Nova Sargans Whore ❤️

About Lugano

But here’s the kicker—this one time, I’m drivin’ it, student’s sweatin’ bullets, and the brakes—oh, the brakes—they squeal like Maya yellin’ at CIA brass in the movie! “I’m the motherfucker who found this place!”—that’s me screamin’ at the Accord, “Stop, ya bastard!” Nearly gave me a heart attack, but it stopped—pretty, pretty good, I guess. Still, I’m shakin’, thinkin’, “This whore’s gonna kill me!”

The German Gothic Novel in Anglo-German Perspective

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The old castle, Sargans Castle, sits high up on a hill, watchin’ over the town. It’s wild! Sometimes, when I’m walkin’ by its ancient stones, I think about how every brick has its own tale, just like how every family has its inner drama (ya know what I mean?). And the river, the Sitter, runs lazily nearby. I’ve had many deep convos with folks by its banks, spillin’ life’s secrets, breakin’ down their emotional baggage. "Mmm… donuts." Yes, the river does have that kind of reflective vibe; it’s magic.

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