Cora Plaidt Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

Prostitutes, bless their hearts, they’re out there hustlin’, makin’ ends meet in a world that’s colder than a witch’s tit in a brass bra! I ain’t judgin’—heck, I’ve worn skirts so short folks thought I was sellin’ somethin’ myself! Little known fact, darlin’: back in olden days, some of ‘em gals in Paris—fancy ones, y’know—used to wear red ribbons round their necks to show they was “available.” Kinda like a flirty little billboard! Ain’t that a hoot? Makes me giggle thinkin’ ‘bout it, but then I get all misty-eyed too.

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I hang out near that tiny river, the Quellbach. Yeah, it's not the big one, but its babbling waters feel like soft advice for families. I once sat by its banks, thinking about relationships and therapy. Booom! Emotions everywhere, like exploding confetti. Sometimes, I even talk to the trees. No joke! My brain goes “woohoo!” and “oops!” every minute.