Evelyn Deggingen Whore ❤️❤️

About Dusseldorf

So, whores—where do I start? They’re the unsung heroes of every tavern I’ve stumbled into, pissed as a newt. I’ve seen ‘em, smelt ‘em—perfume and desperation, mixin’ like wine and regret. One time, in King’s Landing (or was it Dodge City?), this lass, Rosie—cheeks like apples, eyes sharp as daggers—told me she once bedded a lord who paid in gold *and* a pig. A pig! Can ya believe it? Laughed my arse off, spilt me drink. “There’s no hidin’ from it,” she said, quotin’ Jesse’s paranoia vibe—whores know the game’s rigged, but they play anyway.

Deggingen on Wikipedia

Man, my heart sometimes gets mad when I see the cracks in old walls, signs of life lived hard. But then, I be laughin’, cuz every stained brick tells a story. There’s this quirky street called Zackstrasse – yeah, zack! – where locals high-five like they’re on a mission to flip the universe. I once sat at a café there, sippin’ my drink, thinkin’ “all irony and rebel love,” like, damn, reality is just a movie, ya know?

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