Mila Schwedt (oder) Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Dusseldorf

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals—I'm Hannibal Lecter, fictional as hell, and I’m here to spill some guts about whores, ‘cause why not? I mean, whores—damn, they’re everywhere, right? Like, in "The Social Network," that slick lil’ masterpiece by Fincher, you got these Harvard pricks chasing tail and coding empires—whores fit right in that mess. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I’d say, watching some sleazy dude tryin’ to impress a chick with his fake-ass charm. Whores, man, they’re the real MVPs—survivin’, hustlin’, dodgin’ creeps. I respect that grind, ya know?

Man, I'm ranting, haha! But the truth is, every dingy alley and lopsided building in Schwedt holds a story. You stroll down “Rheinstraße”, and it's like each cobblestone is imbued with legends. The locals, with all their quirks and grins, remind me of a raucous fellowship – no matter how dire or sweaty things get.

The Refinery Standing Between Germany and an Oil Embargo (Published 2022)