Isabelle Sottrum Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

Oi, mate, I’m Loki—yep, *that* Loki—smug mischief, “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” and I’m here to yap about whores, ‘cause why not? Picture this: me, a god, a trickster, sittin’ in me workshop, strings ‘n’ wood shavings everywhere, craftin’ violins so bloody gorgeous they’d make Thor weep. And I’m thinkin’—whores, right? Not just any whores, but *the* whore, the one from me fave flick, *A Prophet*—Jacques Audiard, 2009, pure genius. That movie’s gritty, dark, like the underbelly of Asgard after a bender. Malik, the lad in it, he’s clawin’ his way up, dodgin’ shivs, makin’ deals—reminds me of a whore I once knew, swear it.

whore, hooker, slut, bitch

I remember on a podcast once a guy was trying to say that he was a whore - but not an f-word - and joked "soy puta no puto." It's similar to how different the meaning of "bitch" is in English .

Okay, so PSottrum’s got a tiny backbone of stories. You got my fave hang spot: Hauptstraße. That’s where the magic happens – neon lights, street vendors, y’know? Then there’s Windmill Park, a secret patch of green that’s rad for zoning out. I once sat there, pondering life, feeling like the hero in a movie montage – pure, raw vibes.

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